OP  CALIF-  UBBABY 


Heron  ford 


H  ero  n  fo  r  d 

By 


Author  of 

"The  Crimson  Sign,"  "The  Cava- 
liers,"   "The  Silver  Cross,"   etc. 

**************  ************** 


************* ***************: 


New  Tork 


DODD,  MEAD  6?  COMPANY 


i899 


Copyright  1899 

by 
DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 


INSCRIPTION 

My  dear  Philip  Russell, 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  you  have  the  right  taste 
in  Romance.  Unlike  other  critics,  however  accomplished, 
your  own  moods  never  interfere  with  your  clear  judgment 
and  perfect  faculty  of  enjoyment.  At  every  hour  your  ears 
are  open  to  the  ringing  of  the  horns  of  Elfland,  and  your 
heart  is  responsive  to  the  wooing  of  the  Fairy  who  has  a 
constant  seat  at  your  fireside.  Tour  young  feet  have  not 
yet  trodden  far  upon  the  strange  and  devious  paths  of  life ; 
but  you  are  now  learning,  without  knowing  the  fine  truth, 
that  there  is  refuge  and  sanctuary  from  care  and  trouble 
and  pain  in  the  fair  house  of  which  Imagination  is  the 
builder — a  house  that,  though  unsubstantial  as  a  dream, 
abides  for  ever,  and  is  full  of  joy  and  all  delights.  We 
have  spent  many  happy  hours  together  in  the  wonderland 
of  Youth.  On  that  future  day  when  you  come  to  read 
this  hook,  it  is  my  hope  that  you  may  find  in  its  pages  some 
faint  reflection — alas  !  you  will  be  older  then — of  that 
sweetness  and  joy  that  ^ue  have  found  together  in  the  Cave 
of  dladdin  and  the  Garden  of  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    THE  WAY  I  FIRST  CAME  TO  HERONFORD i 

II.  How  JOHN,  LORD  HERONFORD,  WENT  TO  HIS  OWN 

PLACE 20 

III.  I  FIND  A  NEW  FRIEND 33 

IV.  THE  DAYS  OF  MY  YOUTH 44 

V.    IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS 51 

VI.    THE  HONOUR  OF  HERONFORD 69 

VII.    I  MAKE  LORD  HERONFORD  MY  CONFIDANT 83 

VIII.    VICTORY  VICTRIX 95 

IX.    Two  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN 106 

X.    THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS 119 

XI.  MR.  WESTON  TELLS  THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN  .    .136 

XII.    THE  GREY  COUNTESS 157 

XIII.  THE  SECRET  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE 175 

XIV.  A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM 188 

XV.    JOHN  CASSILIS  PAYS  A  VISIT 204 

XVI.    AN  UNPLEASANT  INTERVIEW  .    .    .   ; 219 

XVII.    LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR 230 

XVIII.     A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK 244 

XIX.    THE  BIRD  IN  THE  TRAP 254 

XX.    UNDER  A  FOOL'S  GUIDANCE     265 

XXI.    A  BITTER  HOUR 279 

XXII.  THE  FIRST  Bow  OF  CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY.  .   .    .  291 

XXIII.  CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY'S  EXIT 306 

XXIV.  THE  LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY 329 


HERONFORD 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    WAY    I    FIRST    CAME    TO    HERONFORD 

IT  cannot  be  questioned  that  there  was  and  is  a  wild 
strain  in  the  Cassilis  blood — a  wildness  that  disappeared 
in  this  generation  or  in  that — but  invariably  and  inevit- 
ably reasserted  itself  after  a  slumbrous  interval  in  the 
headstrong  men  and  beautiful  women  who  drew  their 
birth  from  the  first  Cassilis  of  Heronford.  There  was  a 
lonely  child  of  whom  I  shall  have  much  to  say,  who 
used  to  ponder  with  all  the  fascination  of  terror  over  the 
tragic  chronicles  of  this  family,  and  who  was  wont  to  watch 
in  the  evening  shadows  of  the  great  hall  the  long  line  of 
warriors  and  knights,  statesmen  and  priests,  boisterous 
cavaliers,  sour-visaged  Puritans  and  beautiful  women 
(these  for  the  most  part  with  the  same  proud  high  air, 
but  some  with  a  look  of  pain  and  fear  eloquent  in  their 
splendid  eyes) — the  lad,  I  say,  would  watch  that  vision- 
ary cavalcade  pass  before  him  with  its  burden  of  reck- 
less mirth  and  tragic  despair — pass  to  the  same  dark  and 
miserable  doom.  In  the  solitude  of  his  young  life  these 
ghostly  shapes  stepping  from  their  canvas  peopled  his 
dreams  asleep  and  waking  with  an  awful  reality,  and  even 
yet  sometimes  appear  to  him  as  shadowy  visitants 

i 


2  HERONFORD 

from  the  gloom  and  sorrow  of  the  past.  The  whole 
history  of  the  house  was  written  for  the  precocious  child 
in  the  sombre  portraits  that  lined  the  long  and  rambling 
corridor  at  the  head  of  the  great  staircase,  and  he  found 
a  certain  companionship  in  the  awe  and  fear  inspired  by 
their  silent  faces.  His  mind  was  filled  with  their  wild 
and  stormy  history ;  he  knew  the  name  and  history  of 
every  splendid  gentleman  and  haughty  lady  in  that  long, 
illustrious  line.  He  felt  that  in  some  curious,  inexpli- 
cable way  his  young  life  was  a  part  of  that  strange  assem- 
bly, and  that  each  had  a  message  for  him. 

Who  shall  explain  the  strange,  unmeasurable  working 
of  a  child's  mind  ?  More  than  once  the  boy  was  caught 
in  his  little  nightshirt  with  a  candle  in  his  hand,  standing 
before  the  portrait  of  the  Grey  Countess,*  his  eyes  fixed 
in  terror  and  his  little  heart  beating  wildly  in  his  breast. 
I  remember  how  the  passionate  disdain  of  those  haughty 
lips  was  wont  to  hold  him  with  a  complete  fascination, 
and  the  cold  denial  of  her  cruel  eyes  would  send  him 
back  in  childish  terror — of  what  he  could  not  tell — to 
his  solitary  chamber  to  shut  out  the  sight  of  his  tear- 
stained  pillow.  I  cannot  remember  that  anyone  had  ever 
told  him — I  think  it  must  have  been  his  own  thought  and 
the  result  of  his  own  imaginative  and  morbid  dreams — 
but  he  never  doubted  that  the  evil  spirit,  and  the  dark 
fate  that  followed  as  its  shadow,  entered  the  house  for 
the  first  time  when  that  awful  woman  crossed  its  thresh- 
old as  a  bride.  From  that  time  the  same  eyes  and  lips 
and  the  little  frown  between  the  brows  were  repeated  in 

*  This  lady  was  a  widow  when  she  intermarried  with  the  fourth  Lord 
Cassilis,  there  never  being  an  earldom  in  the  family. 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD     3 

a  hundred  canvasses,  and  in  every  case  the  history  was 
the  same — wild  riot  and  inevitable  despair,  or  a  still 
darker  tale  of  crime  and  punishment. 

Is  it  possible  that  the  child  sees  more  and  further  than 
the  man  ?  I  cannot  say,  but  I  know  that  in  my  graver 
years  here  and  there  in  that  line  of  portraits  I  have 
caught  a  fancied  resemblance  to  the  Grey  Countess  of 
tradition,  but  of  that  spiritual  sympathy  and  inward  like- 
ness I  have  seen  nothing  or  nothing  of  which  I  could 
speak  with  assurance. 

As  in  most  great  houses  looking  back  to  a  remote  past 
here  also  there  was  the  story  of  a  ghost,  and  it  was  said — 
there  were  few  who  did  not  believe  it — that  the  awful 
shadow  of  the  Grey  Countess  passed  through  the  great 
hall  to  the  chamber  which  she  had  occupied  in  life  when 
any  misfortune  was  about  to  befall  the  family  at  whose 
door  she  had  laid  the  atonement  of  her  crime.  It  may 
be  that  this  wild  and  foolish  story  had  first  awakened  the 
boy's  imagination,  and  led  him  to  trace  those  baleful 
features  in  the  wayward  and  unfortunate  among  her  de- 
scendants ;  but  it  is  certain  that  for  many  years,  in  the 
languid  and  feeble  hours  of  midnight  the  lad  would  lie 
listening  for  the  rustle  of  her  sweeping  garments,  and 
the  solemn  tread  of  her  pitiless  feet  with  the  blood  stains 
fresh  upon  them.  In  any  case  that  great  grey  house 
with  its  slumbrous  galleries  and  lonely  chambers,  and  all 
about  it  the  sweep  and  swell  of  the  sea,  moaning  cease- 
lessly in  calm,  or  roaring  in  the  stress  and  thunder  of  the 
storm,  seemed  not  unfitted  to  become  the  birthplace  and 
cradle  of  a  race  wayward  and  ungovernable  as  that  of 
Cassilis. 


4  HERDNFORD 

The  late  lord  was  an  old  man  when  I  first  remember 
him  and  it  is  with  him  that  this  story  begins,  though  I 
shall  not  have  much  to  say  regarding  him.  He  was  then 
more  than  sixty,  but  I  can  still  call  to  mind  the  bright- 
ness of  his  eyes,  the  stately  dignity  of  his  carriage,  and 
the  ungovernable  temper  that  not  unfrequently  burst  into 
a  tempest  of  oaths,  shocking  beyond  description.  I 
speak  now  not  merely  from  my  boyish  recollection,  but 
from  what  I  have  subsequently  learned,  and  I  am  sure 
that  if  the  Grey  Countess  bequeathed  her  spirit  to  any 
of  her  descendants,  to  none  she  gave  a  larger  portion 
than  to  John  Cassilis,  twelfth  Baron  Heronford. 

And  yet  of  all  the  gentlemen  I  have  ever  known  his 
manners  were  the  most  perfect,  his  courtesy  the  most 
distinguished,  and  his  quiet  gaiety  the  most  winning  and 
charming.  There  was  no  one  of  whom  I  ever  stood  in 
such  dread  and  terror;  I  would  tremble  at  the  sound  of 
his  voice,  and  shrink  when  I  heard  his  footstep  and  the 
tap  of  his  stick  upon  the  floor.  His  venerable  white 
head,  his  shining  eyes  whose  brightness  age  had  not  in 
the  slightest  degree  dimmed,  his  ceremonious  manner, 
were,  so  to  speak,  merely  the  mask  to  my  youthful  eyes 
that  concealed  the  waiting  fury  that  burst  forth  from 
time  to  time  in  fits  of  wrath  and  passion.  At  such 
times  he  was  entirely  transformed,  and  as  I  have  since 
thought,  his  actions  were  completely  beyond  his  control. 
His  servants  did  not  venture  to  enter  into  his  presence, 
and  he  lived  almost  altogether  in  solitude  until  the  mood 
passed  and  his  volcanic  passion  had  spent  its  force. 

They  still  point  out  the  path  along  the  cliffs  where  in 
one  of  these  wild  paroxysms  he  urged  the  famous  white 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD     5 

horse  he  was  used  to  ride — a  mere  sheep  track  climbing 
in  broken  leaps  along  the  side  of  the  cliff  that  ran  sheer 
down  to  the  white  surf  and  the  shining  grey  rocks  below 
— a  path  on  which  the  cragsman  would  need  to  exercise 
all  his  skill  and  coolness.  As  I  shall  have  to  tell  here- 
after I  climbed  that  path  once,  and  all  the  way  along 
that  dizzy  verge  I  heard  the  ringing  clatter  of  the  hoofs 
and  the  old  man's  labouring  breath  as  he  swung  in  his 
hunting  saddle,  and  I  felt  that  men  do  not  altogether  die 
when  they  are  laid  in  the  quiet  churchyard  and  a  stately 
monument  is  reared  over  their  mouldering  bones. 

John,  twelfth  Lord  Heronford,  was  twice  married. 
His  first  wife  died  within  ten  months  of  becoming  a 
bride,  but  his  second  wife  lived  long  enough  to  bring 
three  children  into  the  world,  and  then  quietly,  and  I  am 
afraid  not  unwillingly,  went  to  rest  with  the  wives  of  the 
house  of  Cassilis  in  the  shadow  of  the  church.  From 
this  time,  I  have  been  told,  the  old  lord's  temper  became 
more  and  more  ungovernable,  and  his  actions  less  ame- 
nable to  reason.  It  was  said  he  had  treated  the  mother 
of  his  children  with  great  harshness  (a  faded  beauty  with 
sorrowful  eyes  whose  portrait  you  may  still  see),  and  it  was 
supposed  that  his  unkindness  broke  her  heart.  However, 
whether  it  was  due  to  remorse  or  whatever  other  cause, 
from  this  time  he  was  in  the  habit  of  making  prolonged 
sojourns  in  Paris  and  London,  and  lived  among  the  rakes 
and  bloods  of  that  period  with  the  same  audacious  reck- 
lessness he  had  done  at  home.  During  his  long  mi- 
nority the  estate  had  recovered  itself  and  he  had  been  the 
master  of  a  large,  not  to  say  a  splendid  fortune,  but  a 
few  years  of  cards  and  dice  sufficed  to  empty  his  purse, 


6  HERONFORD 

and  in  the  days  when  I  first  remember  him  my  lord  was 
a  poor  man  with  a  desire  to  save  and  a  touch  of  avarice. 
His  career  as  a  prodigal  had  lasted  for  fifteen  years, 
and  when  he  finally  returned  home,  having  drunk  the 
cup  of  pleasure  and  sin  to  its  poisonous  dregs,  he  found 
his  sons  already  grown  up  and  his  daughter  a  beautiful 
girl  blossoming  into  her  first  womanhood. 

It  has  been  said,  but  I  think  unjustly,  that  my  lord  had 
no  heart.  It  was,  perhaps,  hard  to  find  and  when  found 
hard  to  touch,  but  in  any  case  there  was  never  any  love 
and  sympathy  between  my  lord  and  his  family.  From 
the  first  there  was  an  impassable  gulf  of  fear  and  distrust 
between  them,  and  finally,  at  any  rate  in  the  case  of  his 
eldest  son  (my  friend  and  patron),  a  fierce  and  irrecon- 
cilable quarrel  which  lasted  till  his  death.  At  all  events, 
my  lord  was  soon  left  as  completely  alone  as  if  his  pale, 
heart-broken  wife  had  died  childless,  and  the  man,  old  in 
heart  and  grey  in  experience,  lived  his  own  life  solitary 
and  forgotten. 

His  daughter,  toward  whom  her  father  had  never 
shown  the  least  affection,  had  found  a  home  with  Lady 
Ashtown,  her  mother's  sister,  and  passed  her  time  be- 
tween that  fine  lady's  Yorkshire  house  and  the  gaieties 
of  Bath ;  a  haughty  and  fashionable  beauty  of  whom  no 
less  a  judge  than  Mr.  Steele  wrote  with  warmth  in  his 
Tattler,  and  who  found  many  admirers,  though  none 
with  sufficient  courage  to  make  her  his  wife.  She  wrote 
once  a  year  to  her  father,  a  letter  proper  in  tone  and  duti- 
ful in  expression ;  and  there  all  intercourse  between  them 
ended,  for  the  old  man,  having  read  the  filial  epistle  with 
a  smile,  put  it  in  the  fire  and  returned  no  answer. 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD      7 

My  lord's  two.  sons  were  of  a  very  different  disposi- 
tion. The  elder  (my  own  lord  of  whom  I  shall  have  so 
much  to  say)  being  quick,  impatient,  and  high-spirited ; 
while  his  brother  was  little  more  than  a  boor  and  a  sot, 
finding  his  chief  companionship  in  the  tavern  and  his 
highest  pleasure  in  the  stable.  Whatever  cause  for  quar- 
rel my  lord  had  with  his  eldest  son  he  was  never  unmind- 
ful of  the  dignity  of  the  family,  nor  did  he  once,  then  or 
at  any  time,  permit  his  personal  feelings  to  interfere  with 
what  he  looked  upon  as  his  duty  toward  the  family 
honour  and  the  reputation  of  his  name.  Even  after  the 
bitter  and  irreconcilable  quarrel  between  the  father  and 
son  had  arisen  the  young  man  was  always  supplied  with 
the  means  to  support  his  rank,  and  I  am  sure  all  my 
lord's  scraping  and  savings  found  their  way  in  the  long 
run  into  the  pockets  of  the  prodigal.  Nor  did  he  look 
for  any  recompense  in  thanks  or  return  in  gratitude, 
which  he  certainly  never  got.  It  was  merely  the  form 
which  his  pride — perhaps  his  madness — assumed,  and  he 
was  satisfied  that  his  eldest  son  should  cut  a  figure  in  the 
great  world  which  he  himself  had  abandoned.  If  this 
was  his  ambition  it  was  certainly  satisfied  to  the  fullest 
extent,  for  from  the  time  that  Richard  Cassilis  left  his 
father's  house  till  the  time  that  he  returned  after  his 
father's  funeral,  there  was  no  more  brilliant  and  auda- 
cious figure  in  the  society  of  his  time. 

The  story  of  his  extravagance  had  reached  even  the 
village  of  Cassilis,  and  the  villagers  discussed  his  doings 
with  a  feeling  which  was  partly  awe  and  partly  admira- 
tion. They  spoke  with  a  lowering  of  the  voice  of  the  enor- 
mous sums  he  had  won  and  lost  at  cards  with  the  same 


8  HERONFORD 

easy  indifference,  of  the  duels  he  had  fought  and  the 
skill  and  success  with  which  he  fought  them,  of  his 
career  of  gallantry  and  the  broken  reputations  carried  off 
as  spoils  by  the  victor ;  in  short,  a  multitude  of  traditions 
grew  up  round  his  name  which  are  even  yet  repeated 
round  the  cottage  firesides  of  a  winter  evening  long  after 
Richard  Cassilis,  Lord  Heronford,  has  passed  to  his  rest. 
It  is  likely  the  bright,  audacious  boy  had  won  the  hearts 
of  his  people,  and  when  he  passed  from  their  sight  into 
the  great  world  they  found  an  excuse  for  his  sins  and 
excesses  in  the  harshness  and  severity  with  which  he  had 
been  treated  by  his  father. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  for  a  number  of  years  the  old  man 
lived  completely  alone,  Will  Cassilis,  the  second  son, 
being  the  only  member  of  the  family  who  ever  visited 
the  Hall,  and  then  altogether  without  his  father's  knowl- 
edge or  even  approval.  These  secret  visits  were  no 
doubt  the  result  of  necessity,  and  this  younger  son  of  a 
great  house  lived  on  terms  of  equality  among  his  father's 
grooms  and  servants  because  there  was  no  other  refuge 
open  to  him.  It  was  not,  indeed,  that  he  felt  out  of 
place  in  the  pantry  or  the  servants'  hall,  for  Will  Cassilis 
had  early  developed  vicious  habits,  and  more  willingly 
chose  his  companions  among  jockeys  and  broken  game- 
sters than  among  those  of  his  own  rank  and  degree. 
But  the  sums  of  money  with  which  his  brother  and  sister 
periodically  supplied  him  were  speedily  dissipated  in  the 
tavern  or  on  the  racecourse,  and  he  was  compelled  to  lie 
hidden  till  his  purse  was  again  filled,  and  the  means  were 
supplied  to  follow  the  courses  he  best  loved. 

In  this  way,  separated  from  his  family  and  indifferent 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD     9 

to  the  world,  the  old  lord  lived  like  a  hermit  and  a  mad- 
man, keeping  his  own  accounts,  playing  the  tyrant  over 
his  tenants  and  dependants,  turning  the  night  into  day, 
and  giving  matter  for  daily  wonder  to  his  neighbours  by 
his  solitary  freaks  and  extravagances  of  conduct.  He  had 
furnished  for  himself  a  little  room  in  the  western  tower, 
which  it  was  only  possible  to  reach  by  a  movable  stair  or 
drawbridge,  and  here  he  would  shut  himself  up  for  a  fort- 
night at  a  time,  admitting  no  one  to  his  presence  and  re- 
fusing to  see  even  his  domestics.  But  for  some  reason 
during  these  periods  of  retirement  the  light  burned  night 
and  day  in  his  window.  It  was  said  he  never  slept  or 
rested,  and  that  I  can  almost  believe.  As  a  child  I  have, 
indeed,  often  wondered  whether  his  conduct  was  due  to 
remorse  and  spiritual  fear.  He  never  sat  down  to  his 
solitary  meals,  he  never  retired  to  his  lonely  pillow,  with- 
out his  drawn  rapier  placed  upon  the  table  or  laid  upon 
the  coverlet  of  his  bed  close  to  his  hand. 

For  some  years  no  change  took  place  in  his  moody, 
retired  life,  and  then  an  event  happened  in  which  I  my- 
self had  some  interest,  and  which  was  not  without  its 
effect  on  the  fortunes  of  the  family.  It  happened  about 
six  months  after  the  marriage  of  Richard  Cassilis.  That 
prodigal  (and  with  all  his  great  faults  no  one  possessed  a 
kinder  heart  or  more  generous  disposition),  having  sorely 
tried  his  father's  patience  and  made  tremendous  inroads 
on  the  already  impoverished  family  estates,  thought  to 
mend  his  fortunes  with  a  rich  wife,  and  married  in  the 
June  of  that  year  Alicia,  widow  of  the  Honourable 
Nicholas  Carteret,  with  a  fortune  of  sixty  thousand 
pounds,  as  I  have  seen  stated  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


io  HERONFORD 

I  have  no  doubt  that  my  lord,  his  father,  was  rejoiced 
that  his  son  should  have  given  promise  of  amendment  in 
his  life,  and  was  still  more  delighted  that  there  was  a 
prospect  in  the  future  of  keeping  in  his  own  hands  the 
rents  and  profits  which  till  now  had  rattled  through  the 
dice-box.  Indeed,  for  many  reasons  he  must  have  been 
more  than  pleased.  I  have  myself  seen  a  letter — almost 
the  only  one  he  ever  wrote — addressed  to  his  son  on  the 
occasion  of  his  marriage,  and  congratulating  him,  though 
with  a  somewhat  sarcastic  humour,  upon  this  happy  and 
fortunate  event. 

For  a  time  the  reconciliation  was  quite  complete,  for 
though  they  could  never  agree  when  they  met,  in  his  own 
way  my  lord  was  proud  of  his  eldest  son.  In  any  event 
the  bitterness  between  them  was  so  far  abated  that  there 
was  some  talk  of  the  newly-wedded  pair  paying  a  visit  to 
Heronford,  and  arrangements  had  actually  been  made  for 
their  reception  when  the  incident  occurred  of  which  I 
have  spoken,  and  father  and  son  never  saw  each  other 
alive.  The  marriage  took  place,  as  I  have  said,  in  June  ; 
the  winter  following  was  severe  almost  beyond  precedent, 
and  from  the  middle  of  November  till  some  time  in 
February  the  roads  were  almost  impassable  by  reason  of 
the  tremendous  snowfall  and  continual  frost.  This  may 
have  been  the  cause  of  the  visit  being  postponed,  but  in 
any  case  his  necessity  must  have  been  urgent  and  his 
case  pressing  who  visited  Heronford  during  that  time. 

On  the  evening  of  the  twenty-third  December  my 
lord  was  dining,  as  was  his  general  custom  at  all  seasons 
of  the  year,  in  the  great  hall,  though  now  close  by  the 
north  fireplace,  and  altogether  alone.  You  know  the 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD    u 

great  hall  at  Heronford — that  gloomy,  high-vaulted 
chamber,  even  during  the  daylight  filled  with  melancholy 
shadows  and  cold  silences.  At  night  I  can  still  hardly 
enter  it  without  a  shudder.  Yet  my  lord  loved  it  better 
than  any  other  room  but  his  little  refuge  in  the  west 
tower,  and  here  he  sat,  the  table  lighted  by  many  candles, 
and  the  other  end  of  that  spacious  apartment  dark  almost 
as  night. 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  cracked  his  walnuts, 
with  a  bottle  of  his  favourite  port  at  his  right  hand.  It 
is  easy  for  me  to  picture  him  on  this  evening — his  cold 
eyes  settled  on  the  gloomy  shadows  before  him,  his  white 
head  resting  against  the  back  of  the  black  oak-chair,  and 
his  hand,  the  fingers  covered  with  brilliants — this  being 
one  of  his  weaknesses — playing  with  the  stem  of  his 
wine-glass ;  a  solitary,  morose  old  man  who  even  in  his 
pleasures  saw  in  life  not  a  caress  but  a  struggle.  The 
four  servants  had  retired — for  this  was  the  number  that 
always  waited  on  him  when  he  dined  alone — and  only 
John  Osborne  stood  behind  my  lord's  chair  and  closer  to 
the  fire.  I  used  to  think  that  the  two  understood  one 
another  without  words  ;  certainly  there  never  was  a  serv- 
ant more  faithful,  observant,  and  devoted,  and  though 
neither  ever  for  a  moment  crossed  the  formal  line  that 
rank  demands,  I  know  my  lord  had  always  an  affectionate 
regard  for  his  old  servant  beyond  any  living  person,  even 
his  own  children. 

John's  duty  ended  for  the  day  only  when  the  last 
bottle  was  finished  and  he  had  seen  his  master  safely  to 
bed,  which  he  did  regularly  at  the  one  hour.  To-night, 
however,  my  lord  had  sat  longer  than  usual,  and  had 


12  HERONFORD 

drunk  less  and  with  more  deliberation  than  was  his  custom. 
It  was  past  ten  o'clock  and  there  was  still  a  bottle  warm- 
ing in  the  hearth  where  the  fire  played  among  the  great 
logs  and  went  roaring  up  the  wide  chimney.  John 
walked  to  and  fro  behind  his  master's  chair,  while  my 
lord  sat  in  gloomy  silence  and  shivered  a  little.  At  the 
further  end  of  the  hall  the  moon  was  shining  through 
the  great  window,  and  the  glowing  circle  of  light  filled 
the  room  with  shadows. 

"John." 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

"  'Tis  a  fine  night." 

"  A  fine  night,  my  lord." 

"  You  are  not  a  man ;  you  are  only  a  parrot." 

"  Yes,  my  lord." 

"  A  very  old  bird." 

"  Neither  of  us  is  as  young  as  we  were,  my  lord," 
John  answered  cheerfully. 

"I  know  that,  you  fool,"  cries  my  lord  moodily. 
"  'Tis  a  damnable  world,  Osborne.  There  is  no  room 
for  old  men ;  good  wine  won't  warm  their  dry  bones. 
There  is  nothing  before  them  but  the  churchyard." 

"  If  the  Lord  pleases,  my  lord." 

Heronford  laughed  drily. 

"And  the  heir — I  must  not  forget  my  importunate 
heir  who  is  waiting  to  bury  me.  I  have  kept  him  wait- 
ing long  enough,  Osborne." 

"  If  God  permit " 

"  God  does  not  enter  into  the  matter.  Heronford  has 
always  managed  its  own  affairs.  Bring  a  glass,  sir. 
You  must  drink  to  the  health  of  him  who  will  turn  you 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD    13 

out  of  doors  when  I  am  gone — to  him  and  my  lady,  his 
wife.  'Tis  good  wine  at 'any  rate,  and  the  toast  will  not 
spoil  it." 

Without  a  word  Osborne  brought  a  glass  and  placed 
it  before  his  master,  who  poured  out  the  wine  with  a 
steady  hand  and  with  a  face  perfectly  grave.  Then  the 
latter  rose  to  his  feet. 

"We  will  drink  to  my  son,  Richard  Cassilis,  the 
future  Lord  Heron  ford,  unruly  child,  reckless  boy,  and 
godless  man.  I  give  you  his  health,  my  servant  and 
friend.  May  his  friends  love  him  as  mine  have  loved 
me ;  may  his  children  honour  him  as  mine  have  honoured 
me;  may — in  the  devil's  name  what  is  that  ?  " 

The  two  men,  both  old  and  white,  stood  facing  one 
another  with  their  glasses  suspended  in  their  hands,  while 
the  fire  leaped  in  the  great  hearth  and  the  rows  of  candles 
in  the  silver  candlesticks  burned  feebly  round  their  long 
wicks.  There  was  a  prolonged  silence ;  then  Osborne 
laid  down  his  glass. 

"  'Tis  the  judgment  of  heaven,  my  lord,"  he  said 
feebly.  "  You  must  not  ask  me  to  drink  that  toast." 

But  before  Lord  Heronford  could  answer  the  knocking 
which  they  had  heard  was  repeated  with  a  clamorous  in- 
sistence, awakening  the  echoes  of  the  empty  house,  and 
it  may  be  filling  them  both  with  a  sense  of  its  desolateness. 

Lord  Heronford  put  his  glass  untasted  from  his  lips 
and  sat  down  with  a  quiet  smile. 

"  It  may  be  the  devil  come  for  me  at  last,  Osborne. 
You  had  better  go  and  ask  him  to  wait  till  I  have  finished 
the  bottle." 

"But,  my  lord " 


i4  HERONFORD 

"  Do  not  be  a  fool.  Go  and  see  who  wants  me  at 
this  hour  of  the  night.  And  remember,  I  will  not  see 
an  angel  from  heaven." 

My  lord  watched  his  servant  pass  waveringly  down  the 
hall,  and  then  emptying  his  glass  sat  for  some  time  with 
his  hands  resting  upon  the  table,  the  tips  of  his  fingers 
pressed  tightly  together  according  to  his  custom.  Then 
he  rose  from  his  chair  and  went  over  to  the  hearth,  stand- 
ing with  his  back  to  the  fire.  He  was  of  a  very  tall 
figure  and  not  in  the  least  bent  by  his  age.  I  have  often 
seen  him  standing  in  this  way — his  favourite  attitude — 
his  brows  drawn,  his  eyes  fixed,  and  if  at  such  times  he  did 
not  affect  me  with  fear  he  always  impressed  me  with  awe. 

A  long  time  passed — nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour — and 
he  began  to  grow  impatient,  for  he  never  could  bear  delay. 

Then  the  door  opened  and  Osborne  reappeared. 

"  Have  you  been  asleep,  sirrah  ?  What  is  the  matter  ? 
Have  you  seen  a  ghost  ?  " 

u  As  I  am  a  sinner,  my  lord,  I  do  not  know." 

"  Pooh  !  you  are  a  fool.     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure  that " 

"  Hell  and  the  devil !  I  must  see  myself.  Get  out 
of  my  way,  you  addle-headed  ass." 

"  Your  lordship  must  not  do  that." 

"  I  must  not  walk  in  my  own  house  !  This  is  not 
language  that  I  will  tolerate,  sirrah." 

"  But,  my  lord " 

"  Let  me  have  no  more  c  buts.'     Speak  out  plainly." 

"  It  is  a  woman." 

"The  devil!" 

"  A  woman  and  a  child," 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD    15 

"  Pooh  ! "  said  my  lord,  returning  to  his  seat  and 
possessed  at  once  by  irritation  and  a  certain  humour. 
"  I  thought  you  had  more  sense,  Osborne.  'Twas 
only  a  stone  in  the  horse-pond  after  all.  Times  have 
changed,  John ;  times  have  changed.  I  am  too  old  for 
the  baggage  to  come  trapesing  after  me.  'Tis  a  hard 
night ;  let  them  give  her  a  bed  and  a  crust  and  see  her  to 
the  parish  in  the  morning.  Let  me  hear  no  more  about  it." 

II  It  is  not  my  fault,  my  lord,  but " 

"  Well  ?  " 

II 1  doubt  but  you  must  hear  more.     The  creature  seems 
dazed-like,  but  is  soft-spoken  and  well-mannered.     She 
says  she  has  come  from  London  to  see  your  lordship." 

"  You  are  an  idiot,  John  Osborne.  I  will  see  no 
living  woman  in  this  house.  I  know  what  has  happened 
— oh  !  I  know  very  well  what  has  happened.  I  will 
gather  no  crop  of  wild  oats  for  any  son  of  mine.  'Death, 
man,  don't  stand  glowering  at  me  like  the  jackanapes  you 
are.  Let  the  trull  have  a  bed  and  show  her  to  the  door 
in  the  morning." 

Osborne  came  close  behind  his  master's  chair.  Then 
he  did  what  he  had  never  done  before  in  his  life  j  he  laid 
his  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  I  think  your  lordship  must  see  this  woman." 

Lord  Heron  ford  was  so  much  taken  by  surprise  and  so 
possessed  by  anger  that  for  the  moment  he  was  unable  to 
answer  a  word.  His  domestics,  as  much  from  habit  as 
from  fear  of  his  wild  and  terrible  fits  of  passionate  wrath, 
never  ventured  to  question  his  commands  for  an  instant. 
He  sat  erect  and  speechless,  his  eyes  flashing,  his  lips 
white,  and  his  long,  thin  fingers  trembling  upon  the  arms 


16  HERONFORD 

of  his  chair.  But  the  servant  was  evidently  as  much 
moved  as  his  master,  and  from  whatever  cause  seemed 
possessed  by  a  fear  greater  than  any  the  latter  could 
inspire. 

"  I  think  your  lordship  must  see  this  woman." 

Then  he  leaned  forward  and  whispered  some  words  in 
a  low  tone  in  my  lord's  ear. 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  man  that  he  should  act  as 
he  did.  He  had  been  swaying  on  the  verge  of  a  parox- 
ysm of  passion — of  a  wild  uncontrollable  outburst  which 
yielded  to  no  persuasion  and  admitted  of  no  pause  until 
it  had  worn  itself  out  through  mere  exhaustion,  but  now 
in  an  instant  he  was  cold  as  ice,  and  only  in  the  tighten- 
ing of  his  white  lips  was  there  evidence  of  his  inward 
agitation. 

"An  impostor  or  a  dupe,  Osborne,"  he  said  calmly 
and  with  stern  composure.  "  But  I  will  see  the  woman. 
Bring  her  here  alone,  and  stay — you  said  there  was  a 
child,  let  her  bring  the  child." 

He  rose  from  his  chair  and  resumed  his  place  by  the 
hearth,  standing  with  his  hands  behind  his  back  and  his 
eyes  looking  straight  down  the  great  room  with  a  fixed 
gaze,  almost  like  that  of  ?,  man  walking  in  his  sleep.  But 
his  lips  were  still  white  and  his  brows  were  gathered  in  a 
frown.  He  never  moved  nor  stirred  a  foot  from  the  time 
that  Osborne  left  the  room  until  he  returned  followed  by 
a  woman  clad  in  a  cloak  that  concealed  her  face  and  figure, 
and  carrying  a  child  in  her  arms.  Even  when  she  came 
close  to  where  he  was  standing  he  did  not  look  at  her ;  he 
only  drew  his  snuff-box — a  thing  he  seldom  used — from 
his  pocket  and  leisurely  took  a  pinch  of  snuff. 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFOjRD    17 

"  Give  the  lady  a  chair,  Osborne.  You  desired  to  see 
me,  madam.  I  am  Lord  Heron  ford." 

As  I  have  said,  whatever  were  his  faults  and  his  vices 
there  never  was  any  man  more  courteous  and  full  of  dig- 
nity, but  that  of  a  nature  that  rather  repelled  than  at- 
tracted, and  now  his  manner  was  cold  beyond  measure 
though  full  of  formal  courtesy.  At  the  sound  of  his 
voice  the  woman  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face  and  then 
sank  with  an  air  of  extreme  exhaustion  into  the  chair 
which  Osborne  made  haste  to  offer  her.  She  was  quite 
young,  hardly  more  than  a  girl,  and  to  say  that  she  was 
beautiful  is  to  speak  with  a  halting  appreciation.  I  have 
in  my  possession — a  sacred  treasure,  a  holy  memorial — a 
little  miniature  of  this  forlorn  wanderer,  and  I  am  sure 
the  sweet  innocence  of  girlhood,  the  frank  joy  and  fresh- 
ness of  youth,  was  never  wedded  to  a  beauty  more  subtle 
and  ravishing.  But  now  there  was  no  trace  of  timidity  in 
her  manner,  and  the  look  she  bent  on  my  lord's  face  was 
not  one  of  appeal  or  entreaty,  but  of  strong  purpose  and 
courage.  I  think  her  face  and  eyes  and  the  way  she  re- 
garded him  won  upon  my  lord,  for  his  voice  was  softer 
when  he  spoke  again.  That  was  his  way — you  could  never 
tell  whither  his  feelings  would  lead  him  a  moment  before. 

"  It  is  a  hard  world,  madam.  I  think  I  know  your 
story." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  fixed,  bright  look,  and  their 
eyes  met ;  she  held  the  child  more  tightly  clasped  in  her 
arms. 

"  I  cannot — I  dare  not  believe  that." 

u  No  ?  You  are  young,  very  young,  and  I  am  old.  1 
have  heard  a  good  many  stories  in  my  time.  I  think  I 


i8  HERONFORD 

have  heard  yours  among  them.  My  poor  child,  'tis  a 
common  tale." 

"  I  am  sure  that  mine  is  not  a  common  tale." 

"  My  son  Richard  ?  Ah  !  I  thought  as  much  ;  his 
brother's  tastes  are  different,  but  both  —  Good  God  ! 
madam,  I  will  hear  nothing  more.  I  have  done  with 
both  of  them." 

"  I  have  walked  seven  miles,  my  lord,  and  never  thought 
I  should  reach  your  house  living.  Do  you  know  what 
gave  me  strength  ?  It  was  my  child — my  child  and  his. 
For  my  boy's  sake  you  must  hear  what  I  have  to  tell  you; 
if  you  refuse  to  hear  me  I  must  tell  the  world.  I  cannot 
leave  my  boy  without  a  name,  I  cannot — I  dare  not  die 
and  leave  it  unspoken.  I  owe  that  to  my  baby." 

There  was  an  undercurrent  of  passionate  despair  in  her 
voice,  but  there  was  something  more — the  insistent  asser- 
tion of  a  right  which  gave  her  strength  and  courage,  and 
the  old  man,  unaccustomed  to  such  language,  started  at 
the  threat  contained  in  her  words.  For  a  moment  he 
seemed  swayed  by  contending  emotions,  and  it  seemed  to 
his  servant,  who  knew  his  way  better  than  any  living 
person,  that  he  was  about  to  order  her  from  his  presence. 
But  he  suddenly  changed  his  mind.  He  went  to  the 
table,  and  lifting  a  candlestick  with  a  steady  hand  came 
over  to  where  she  was  seated. 

"  Let  me  see  your  child,"  he  said  in  a  hard,  measured 
voice. 

Without  a  word  she  opened  the  cloak  that  she  still  kept 
gathered  closely  round  her,  and  the  streaming  light  fell 
on  the  face  of  the  sleeping  child.  The  old  man  looked 
at  it  for  a  long  time  and  with  a  smile  that  was  almost  a 


THE  WAY  I  CAME  TO  HERONFORD    19 

sneer  playing  about  his  lips.  Then  he  silently  returned 
to  the  table,  set  the  candlestick  in  its  place,  and  resumed 
his  place  by  the  hearth. 

"  I  am  satisfied,"  he  said.  "  Heronford  is  true  to  its 
traditions.  Osborne,  you  may  leave  us  now.  Madam, 
I  will  hear  your  story." 

From  that  hour  till  the  day  of  his  death  they  say  my 
lord  was  a  changed  man.  Whatever  the  story  may  have 
been  he  heard  that  night  his  strong  and  wayward  spirit 
seemed  broken,  and  a  haunting,  watchful  fear  seemed  to 
possess  him  at  all  times.  Nor  was  he  ever  known  to  men- 
tion his  children  either  in  anger  or  contempt  as  he  was 
used  to  do,  but  having  once  written  to  his  eldest  son, 
which  he  did  shortly  after  this,  he  removed  his  portrait 
from  the  wall  of  the  gallery  and  burned  the  canvas  with 
his  own  hand. 

Upon  this  particular  night  it  was  more  than  an  hour 
before  he  rang  for  Osborne.  His  servant  fdund  him  in 
such  a  condition  as  he  had  never  seen  him  before,  his 
hands  trembling,  his  voice  thin  with  emotion,  and  his 
head  bowed  like  one  struck  down  by  misfortune. 

"  This  lady  will  remain  at  Heronford,"  he  said  shortly. 
"  Have  the  rooms  in  the  east  wing  prepared  for  her  and 
the  child,  and  look  you,  John  Osborne,  if  I  hear  a  whis- 
per— you  know  what  I  mean — before  heaven  I  will  break 
your  neck  and  fling  you  into  the  moat." 

With  that  my  lord  drew  himself  up,  and  with  all  his 
fine  courtesy  bowed  to  the  lady  whose  hand  he  kissed  ; 
then  walking  unsteadily  down  the  long  chamber — a 
shadow  among  the  shadows — he  passed  through  the  door 
and  went  unattended  to  his  room. 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW  JOHN,  LORD    HERONFORD,  WENT  TO  HIS  OWN  PLACE 

THE  child  who  was  brought  in  this  way  to  Heronford 
has  now  no  recollection  of  his  mother.  The  lamp  of 
memory  sheds  no  light  on  that  sweet,  innocent  face.  He 
cannot  withdraw  the  curtain  that  has  fallen  upon  the  past, 
but  he  can  remember  when  little  more  than  a  child  sit- 
ting on  the  grassy  mound  by  the  churchyard  wall,  his 
boyish  heart  full  of  uncontrollable  grief,  and  beating,  as 
it  were,  with  his  young  hands  upon  the  unmoving  gates 
of  death. 

He  was  four  years  old  when  he  lost  his  mother,  and 
though  as  I  have  said,  her  face  has  passed  wholly  from 
his  memory,  he  can  still  remember  the  day  on  which  she 
was  buried.  There  still  remains  in  his  mind  the  indis- 
tinct, shadowy  picture  of  an  open  grave,  the  parson  in 
his  cassock,  and  Lord  Heronford  standing  with  his  white 
head  uncovered  in  the  pouring  rain.  Of  this  scene  he 
can  see  nothing  else  through  the  mists  and  shadows  of 
the  past,  and  perhaps  at  the  time  these  things  impressed 
him  most.  I  have,  indeed,  sometimes  wondered  whether 
this  scene,  so  faint  and  vague,  was  not  the  creation  of 
my  own  fancy,  for  the  child,  living  for  the  most  part 
solitary  and  alone  in  that  grey,  desolate  house,  early  be- 
came the  subject  of  a  thousand  waking  dreams.  I  lived 
altogether  in  a  world  of  ideas ;  I  moved  in  a  land  of 
strange  and  grotesque  imaginings.  It  is  true  that  I  was 

2O 


JOHN,  LORD  HERONFORD  21 

clothed  and  fed  and  treated  without  harshness,  but  I  had 
no  companionship  :  I  lived  altogether  alone.  The  serv- 
ants permitted  the  strange,  uncompanionable  child  to  go 
his  own  way  and  to  indulge  undisturbed  in  the  solitude 
he  seemed  to  love. 

And  in  this  manner,  shut  out  from  all  other  company, 
I  came  to  build  my  own  house  of  dreams  and  to  retire 
thither,  unloved  and  unpitied,  a  waif  who  had  no  busi- 
ness in  that  great  house.  As  for  my  lord,  till  I  was  ten 
years  old  he  never  spoke  to  me,  nor  so  much  as  noticed 
my  presence  in  the  house.  Not  once  but  frequently  he 
passed  me  on  the  staircase  as  though  I  had  no  existence, 
and  at  such  times  my  heart  would  stand  still  in  my  bosom. 
For  of  all  my  childish  terrors  there  was  none  so  great  and 
so  overpowering  as  my  fear  of  that  old  man  with  his 
white  face  and  tall,  unbending  figure.  I  cannot  remem- 
ber what  awakened  that  dread  first,  but  certainly  it  was 
the  great  and  absorbing  passion  of  my  childhood.  It  was 
unreasoning,  as  a  child's  fear  always  is,  and  it  was  un- 
founded, but  I  always  trembled  at  his  approach  and  stood 
breathless  till  he  had  passed  me. 

That  he  was  not  altogether  unmindful  of  me  is  clear 
from  the  fact  that  by  his  orders  I  was  sent  every  day  to 
the  Vicarage,  where  for  two  hours  Mr.  Ballard  assumed 
to  direct  my  studies,  though  I  fear  neither  the  master  nor 
the  pupil  was  much  in  love  with  the  task.  But  at  any 
rate  I  learned  to  read,  and  was  soon  able  to  open  up  for 
myself  a  new  world  of  which  I  was  not  slow  to  take 
possession.  There  is  a  room  in  Heronford  that  I  shall 
always  love — the  Book  Room,  that  looks  out  upon  the 
pleasance  and  the  grey  cliffs  beyond  the  swelling  downs. 


22  HERONFORD 

Here  I  found  contentment;  here  I  lost  my  haunting 
sense  of  terror.  Crossing  the  threshold  of  this  chamber 
the  grey  shadows  and  shapes  that  possessed  the  dim  cor- 
ridors melted  into  the  sunshine,  and  the  lad  who  an 
hour  before  had  been  listening  for  the  rustling  robe  of  the 
Grey  Countess  went  hand  in  hand  with  Una,  or  swag- 
gered in  the  tavern  with  Tom  Jones  and  Parson  Adams. 
My  books  were  a  strange  company — poets,  dramatists, 
novelists — and  though  I  found  much  in  them  that  I  did 
not  understand,  still  there  was  life  and  action,  and  a  great, 
unknown  world  in  which  I  was  able  to  lose  myself. 

That  I  was  a  child  grave  and  precocious  beyond  my 
years  is  undoubted,  but  I  do  not  remember  ever  wonder- 
ing how  I  came  to  live  at  Heronford  or  why  I  passed  my 
life  alone.  That  I  accepted  as  a  simple  fact;  I  was  part 
of  this  old  house  as  much  as  my  lord  or  John  Osborne, 
who  never  was  my  friend,  and  who  treated  me  always 
with  a  coldness  and  distant  respect  that  I  could  never 
overcome. 

I  think  I  must  have  been  about  ten  years  old  when  an 
event  happened  which  created  a  deep  impression  upon  my 
mind,  and  opened  up  a  new  field  of  speculation  and 
wonder.  It  must  be  remembered  there  is  nothing  trivial 
or  unimportant  in  a  child's  life — his  petty  sorrows  are 
tragedies,  his  little  daily  incidents  the  adventures  of 
romance.  And  this  was  especially  the  case  with  the 
solitary  child  whose  existence  was  an  unbroken  round  of 
dreams  and  musings,  and  who  passed  his  life  from  day  to 
day  without  companionship. 

It  was  the  first  time  my  lord  ever  spoke  to  me,  and 
that  fact  alone,  with  the  circumstances  attending  it,  com- 


JOHN,  LORD  HERONFORD  23 

bined  to  make  the  impression  deeper  and  more  abiding. 
On  the  afternoon  of  a  winter  day — indeed  I  can  hardly 
remember  any  summer  in  my  childhood — I  was  standing 
in  the  round  window  of  the  Book  Room,  as  was  usual, 
altogether  oblivious  of  the  present,  and  following  the 
curious  voyages  of  Sir  John  Mandeville  in  a  folio  I  had 
lately  discovered.  I  had  not  heard  the  door  open,  nor 
had  I  heard  the  footsteps  upon  the  floor,  but  I  was 
roused  from  my  dreams  by  my  lord's  voice,  and  looked 
up  to  find  him  watching  me  with  a  strange  expression  on 
his  face.  It  was  not  anger,  for  his  lips  were  smiling,  nor 
was  it  love,  for  his  eyes  were  hard  and  cold.  I  can,  per- 
haps, understand  his  feelings  better  now  and  the  strange 
interest  he  displayed,  but  then  I  was  altogether  overcome, 
and  would  have  made  my  escape  had  it  been  possible. 
But  he  stood  between  me  and  the  door,  and  never  took 
his  eyes  off  my  face. 

Then  he  spoke,  and  I  started  at  the  sound  of  his  hard 
voice  — 

"  Come  here,  boy." 

In  an  instant  the  book  which  I  had  been  holding  fell 
with  a  crash  to  the  floor.  For  a  minute  I  stood  trem- 
bling, and  then  walked  with  a  certain  fascination  close  to 
where  he  was  standing.  He  took  my  chin  in  his  hand  that 
was  cold  as  ice,  and  with  the  same  unchanged  look  about  his 
eyes  and  lips  read  my  face  as  one  would  read  a  book. 
But  with  a  curious  reaction  I  had  ceased  to  fear  him,  and 
I  met  his  eyes  boldly.  He  withdrew  his  hand  and  did 
not  speak  for  a  minute.  I  found  myself  counting  the 
rings  on  his  thin  white  fingers.  Then  what  I  have  al- 
ways accounted  one  of  his  strangest  fancies  seized  upon 


24  HERONFORD 

him — a  fancy  so  grotesque  and  terrible  that  its  full 
force,  awful  as  it  was,  did  not  impress  my  childish  mind, 
but  has  often  recurred  to  me  since  with  a  certain  added 
horror. 

"  There  is  an  heirship  of  the  body  and  the  spirit,"  he 
said  as  though  speaking  to  himself.  "  Come  with  me, 
child,  and  I  will  show  you  your  future  and  your  past." 

With  his  hand  resting  on  my  shoulder,  and  with  a  cer- 
tain gentleness  that  was  almost  affectionate,  we  left  the 
room  together  and  went  slowly  toward  the  portrait  gal- 
lery. It  was  a  curious  picture — the  tall  old  man,  with 
his  white  head  erect  and  proud  and  his  eyes  lighted  with 
a  strange  fire,  and  the  sedate,  solemn  child  full  of  awe 
and  wonder,  and  neither  of  them  speaking  a  word. 

The  afternoon  light  was  streaming  through  the  western 
windows  with  a  mellow  glow,  and  the  long  rows  of  por- 
traits had  caught  the  soft  light.  I  had  been  afraid  of 
these  pictures  before,  but  never  so  much  as  now.  Three 
times  we  walked  up  and  down  the  long  gallery,  stopping 
here  and  there  in  silence,  until  that  long  line  of  silent 
faces  seemed  to  me  to  be  alive,  and  the  eloquent  eyes 
filled  me  with  a  nameless  fear.  Then  Lord  Heron  ford 
stopped  before  that  portrait  painted  by  Jannsen ;  the  por- 
trait of  a  boy  little  older  than  myself,  in  the  dress  of  a 
royal  page. 

"  You  have  now  seen  your  inheritance,"  he  said 
slowly.  "  There  is  your  past  and  your  future.  These 
worshipful  gentlemen  are  working  in  your  blood  as  they 
have  wrought  in  mine.  I  have  heard  their  footsteps  be- 
hind me  all  my  life.  The  world  says  they  are  dead. 
That  is  a  lie;  they  are  living — every  one  of  them — 


JOHN,  LORD  HERONFORD  25 

living  in  me  and  in  you.  Not  yet,  perhaps  they  are 
sleeping,  but  by-and-bye  you  will  hear  them  whispering 
in  your  ear ;  you  will  feel  them  pulling  at  your  heart. 
Look,  the  master  has  already  painted  you,"  and  he 
pointed  to  the  portrait  of  the  page,  "  the  same  eyes  and 
lips  and  forehead  ;  you  have  already  taken  your  place 
among  your  ancestors.  Perhaps  a  man's  soul  comes  back 
and  lives  again  in  the  body  of  his  descendants  ;  if  so,  'tis 
a  good  omen,  and  you  should  thank  God.  That  was  a 
good  man,  a  happy,  brave,  and  fortunate  man,  John  Cas- 
silis,  Governor  of  the  Virginias.  I  could  show  you  your 
father's  face,  painted  a  hundred  years  before  he  was  born 
— and  mine.  I  had  finished  my  life  before  I  began  to 
live  at  all.  But  I  will  join  them  presently,  and  then " 

He  turned  away  and  left  me  abruptly,  and  I  stood 
there  lost  in  amazement.  But  though  at  that  time  I  did 
not  understand  all  that  he  said,  nor,  indeed,  till  long 
afterward  when  his  meaning  became  clearer,  there  was 
part  of  his  language  that  I  was  able  to  follow.  From 
that  time  the  thoughtful  face  of  the  youth  became  like 
the  face  of  a  friend,  or  rather,  like  the  presentment  of 
my  better  self,  and  I  searched  industriously  among  the 
records  in  the  Book  Room  for  memorials  of  that  honour- 
able and  fortunate  personage.  I  think  that  happy  re- 
semblance was  not  without  its  effect  upon  myself.  It 
opened  up  an  avenue  of  hope  and  light  among  these 
shadowy  paths  in  which  I  had  begun  to  travel,  and 
though  I  dwelt  upon  my  lord's  words  till  I  had  them  by 
heart,  they  rather  encouraged  than  depressed  me. 

I  kept  my  own  counsel  regarding  this  strange  inter- 
view, and  though  Osborne  questioned  me  in  his  indirect 


26  HERONFORD 

and  ambiguous  manner,  I  answered  him  with  that  dis- 
cretion and,  perhaps,  evasiveness  that  I  had  early  learned. 
But  from  this  time  forward  my  lord  noticed  me  with  in- 
creasing friendliness,  and  more  than  once  had  me  to  dine 
with  him  in  the  great  hall,  where  we  sat  in  chilling  and 
depressing  state.  On  such  occasions  he  never  spoke  a 
word,  but  neither  did  he  relax  in  that  kindliness  with 
which  he  henceforward  treated  me.  He  not  unfre- 
quently  broke  out  in  abuse  of  the  servants,  but  his  anger 
never  vented  itself  upon  me,  and  though  I  still  held  him 
in  the  same  awe,  my  fear  was  in  a  great  degree  abated. 

There  was  no  change  in  the  life  we  led.  The  soli- 
tude of  Heronford  remained  unbroken,  and  my  lord 
ceased  altogether  to  have  any  communication  with  the 
world  beyond  his  own  estate.  Besides  his  own  servants 
the  only  person  he  ever  saw  was  the  Vicar,  and  him  he 
regarded  with  good-natured  contempt  and  only  as  a  boon 
companion.  Perhaps  once  or  twice  in  the  week  Mr. 
Ballard  was  carried  from  the  Hall  to  the  Vicarage  in  a 
pitiable  condition,  my  lord,  who  had  drank  glass  for 
glass  with  him,  lighting  him  to  the  door,  and  walking  as 
steadily  as  though  he  had  not  tasted  a  drop.  But  as 
time  went  on  this  happened  less  frequently,  for  it  was 
evident  to  everyone  that  my  lord  was  failing  fast,  and 
age  was  making  rapid  inroads  upon  the  vast  fund  of 
health  and  vigour  he  had  formerly  enjoyed. 

These  signs  of  decay,  however,  never  touched  the 
strength  of  his  mind  or  his  indomitable  spirit.  Even 
when  he  was  able  to  cross  the  hall  only  with  the  aid  of 
a  stick,  and  his  head  and  hands  both  shook  with  that 
senile  tremor  that  speaks  so  eloquently  of  change,  the 


JOHN,  LORD  HERONFORD  27 

fibre  of  his  understanding  had  not  relaxed,  his  memory 
had  not  weakened,  nor  the  fire  of  his  temper,  so  swift 
and  flashing,  abated  in  the  least  degree.  Osborne,  in- 
deed, was  of  opinion  that  the  end  was  at  hand,  but  for  a 
reason  of  his  own.  My  lord  had  begun  to  read — though 
it  seemed  to  me  fitfully  and  always  with  impatience — a 
manual  of  devotion  which  he  now  carried  continually 
under  his  arm,  but  from  what  cause  or  for  what  reason 
no  one  ever  knew.  It  had  certainly  no  effect  upon  his 
conduct  or  the  wild  intemperance  of  his  language,  and 
I  am  sure  Osborne  welcomed  such  outbursts  as  a  sign 
that  his  master  had  still  some  years  to  live. 

But  the  end  came,  and  that  in  a  way  as  appalling  and 
terrible  as  it  was  sudden  and  unexpected,  though,  per- 
haps, it  formed  a  fitting  conclusion  to  a  life  so  wayward 
and  tempestuous.  I  was  then  about  fourteen  years  of 
age,  a  period  when  events  leave  a  deep  impression  upon 
the  mind,  and  there  is  nothing  that  stands  out  so  clearly 
in  my  memory  as  the  events  of  the  fortnight  preceding 
Lord  Heronford's  decease.  In  a  moment  you  will,  per- 
haps, understand  why  that  should  be  the  case,  and  though 
you  may  hardly  credit  the  story  I  am  about  to  relate,  yet 
I  set  it  down  with  sober  and  veracious  faithfulness.  I 
can  offer  no  explanation  j  I  merely  chronicle  the  events 
as  they  occurred. 

It  was  one  of  those  rare  evenings  when  my  lord  had 
me  to  dine  with  him  in  the  great  hall.  Throughout  the 
entire  meal  he  had  not  spoken  a  word  nor  had  I  ventured 
to  address  him,  a  thing  I  seldom  did.  I  saw  nothing 
unusual  in  his  appearance;  there  was  certainly  nothing 
observable  in  his  manner  beyond  the  common.  We  had 


28  HERONFORD 

not  quite  finished  when  suddenly  he  laid  down  his  wine- 
glass and  sat  for  some  time,  his  eyes  fixed  and  bright, 
and  his  head  turned  a  little  aside  as  though  listening. 
Then  he  moved  in  his  chair  — 

"  Osborne — John  Osborne." 

"  My  lord  ?  " 

"  What  day  of  the  week  is  this  ?  " 

"  Friday,  my  lord." 

"  And  what  day  of  the  month  ?  " 

"The  2 1 st  September." 

"  Ah  !  very  well.  This  day  fortnight — remember, 
this  day  fortnight — I  shall  be  in  Hades." 

Only  he  used  a  stronger  word. 

I  sat  and  gazed  at  him  in  speechless  astonishment,  and 
the  servants  who  had  distinctly  heard  his  words  did  not 
dare  to  move  where  they  stood.  He  intended  no  jest ; 
he  meant  every  word  he  said.  I  think  he  was  pleased  at 
our  consternation,  but  he  only  wiped  his  lips  with  his 
napkin,  and  folded  his  hands  before  him.  It  was  merely 
my  fancy,  but  it  seemed  to  me  as  I  looked  at  him  that  he 
was  already  dead,  and  that  the  lips  which  were  speaking 
were  no  longer  living  lips.  For  I  was  now  quivering 
with  horror ;  I  could  almost  have  cried  out  in  my  fear. 
At  any  time  such  words  were  sufficiently  terrible,  but 
the  tone  in  which  they  were  spoken,  and  the  look  which 
accompanied  them,  intensified  their  effect  a  thousandfold. 

Osborne  tottered  to  the  table  and  leaned  against  it  for 
support,  his  face  blanched  and  his  hands  trembling. 

"  My  lord — my  dear  lord — "  he  cried. 

"  Do  not  be  a  fool,  sirrah.  Every  man  must  die 
sometime — I  as  well  as  the  rest.  A  little  sooner  or 


JOHN,  LORD  HERONFORD  29 

later — what  matter  ?  I  had  as  lief  die  as  live.  Osborne, 
listen  to  me,  you  dolt." 

«  Oh  !  my  lord." 

"This  day  fortnight.  Did  I  ever  break  my  word, 
blockhead  ?  John  Cassilis  can  keep  his  tryst  with  death 
as  well  as  with  the  puppets  who  march  at  his  bidding. 
It  is  not  every  man  who  sees  his  own  obsequies.  I  must 
prepare  for  mine." 

At  this  I  thought,  perhaps,  he  only  jested  in  his  own 
peculiar  way,  but  I  was  very  much  mistaken.  If  it  was 
a  jest  it  was  carried  out  with  a  humour  such  as  I  hope 
never  again  to  witness. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  week  a  great  oak  coffin  very 
richly  mounted  was  brought  into  the  hall,  and  placed 
upon  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  chamber.  Upon  the 
silver  shield  that  was  fastened  on  the  lid  some  words 
were  engraved  that  at  first  I  had  not  the  courage  to  read. 
But  stealing  into  the  room  in  the  afternoon  when  there 
was  no  one  present  I  satisfied  myself  upon  the  point,  and 
crept  away  possessed  by  such  feelings  as  you  can  imagine. 
These  were  the  words  that  I  read  — 


JOHN  CASSILIS, 
I2TH  BARON  HERONFORD, 
BORN  JULY  I3TH,  IJ  -  , 

DIED    OCTOBER    fTH,   1  7  -  . 


During  the  entire  week  these  words  kept  a  sort  of 
rhythmic  dance  in  my  head,  and  never  left  my  mind  for 
a  moment.  Death  seemed  to  have  already  entered  the 
house,  and  the  domestics  moved  about  with  the  noiseless 
feet  of  those  who  seem  fearful  to  awaken  one  sleeping 


3o  HERONFORD 

his  last  sleep  in  the  same  house.  But  my  lord  was  alto- 
gether unchanged,  and  in  no  respect  departed  from  his 
daily  routine.  He  even  dined  as  usual  in  the  hall  with 
that  awful  memento  of  mortality  before  his  eyes,  and 
walked  past  it  as  he  went  to  his  room  with  the  same  un- 
moved countenance.  From  the  evening  when  he  first 
made  the  announcement  till  the  fatal  Friday  he  did  not 
again  revert  to  the  subject,  or  allude  to  it  in  the  most 
distant  way.  Perhaps  he  was  a  little  less  restless  and 
spoke  with  less  insistence  than  was  his  custom,  but  there 
was  no  other  change,  and  that  hardly  perceptible. 

Upon  the  Friday  night,  however,  for  the  first  time  I 
observed  that  an  alteration  had  taken  place  in  him.  There 
was  a  cheerfulness  and  alacrity  in  his  demeanour  such  as 
I  had  not  noticed  for  a  long  time — a  gaiety  and  almost  a 
softness  which  were  quite  foreign  to  his  character.  Nor 
did  he  speak  in  that  high  tone  which  he  always  used,  but 
in  a  low  and  level  voice,  which  seemed  quite  strange  to 
me  when  I  heard  it.  For  the  first  time  also  in  my  life 
he  spoke  to  me  with  a  show  of  affection,  and  I  thought 
more  than  once  he  was  about  to  impose  some  confidence 
regarding  matters  of  a  personal  nature.  But  on  each  oc- 
casion he  changed  the  subject,  and  finally  dismissed  me 
with  both  his  hands  resting  upon  my  shoulders. 

I  had  returned  to  my  own  room,  and  was  sitting  con- 
sidering what  would  happen  when  Osborne,  who  was 
quite  distracted  with  grief  and  terror,  came  to  tell  me 
that  I  was  wanted.  I  did  not  delay  a  moment,  but  put- 
ting on  my  shoes  which  I  had  removed  I  went  down 
with  him  into  the  hall,  where  I  found  all  the  household 
servants  assembled. 


JOHN,  LORD  HERONFORD  31 

My  lord  was  standing  at  the  door  of  the  dining-hall 
with  a  book  in  one  hand  and  a  candle  in  the  other.  As 
soon  as  we  came  down  he  motioned  to  Osborne  to  come 
to  him,  and  handed  him  the  candle.  Then  with  his 
hand  resting  on  the  shoulder  of  his  trembling  servant  he 
turned  and  walked  slowly  up  the  great  hall,  the  servants 
and  myself  following  behind.  As  he  advanced  he  began 
to  read  in  a  steady,  unbroken  voice,  and  so  soon  as  I 
heard  the  first  words  I  knew  to  what  I  was  about  to 
listen  — 

"  I am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life " 

It  was  the  burial  service,  and  surely  never  since  those 
beautiful  words  were  written  did  they  form  part  of  a 
ceremony  so  tragic  and  terrible.  Lord  Heronford  turned 
at  the  foot  of  the  table,  and  till  he  had  finished  the  con- 
cluding "  Amen  "  an  awful  silence  filled  the  room  and 
oppressed  our  hearts.  It  was  ghastly  beyond  description, 
and  as  we  rose  from  our  knees  there  was  no  face  in  the 
room  but  that  of  my  lord  that  was  not  stamped  with  a 
panic  fear.  It  seems  to  me  wonderful  now  that  no  one 
ventured  to  say  a  word  or  to  protest  against  a  ceremony 
so  unnatural  and  appalling,  but  my  lord's  influence  was 
such  that,  even  at  this  time,  no  one  dared  to  oppose  his 
will.  The  domestics  cowered  together  like  a  flock  of 
sheep,  and  I  was  no  bolder  than  the  rest. 

When  he  had  finished  we  found  ourselves  at  the  door 
almost  without  knowing  how,  and  my  lord  bowing  in  his 
stately  manner  as  though  we  had  been  his  equals. 

"  Good-night,  my  friends.  I  am  tired  and  have  to 
make  a  long  journey.  You  need  not  call  me  early, 
Osborne." 


32 


HERONFORD 


With  that  he  closed  the  door  and  we  heard  the  great 
bolt  shot  behind  us.  I  cannot  now  remember  how  we 
passed  the  night,  for  it  is  only  a  confused  dream,  but  I 
very  well  remember  how  the  door  was  forced  open  in 
the  morning.  We  found  my  lord  seated  quite  upright  in 
his  chair,  his  hands  resting  upon  its  arms,  and  a  serene, 
almost  a  triumphant,  look  on  his  face.  But  he  had  fin- 
ished his  long  journey,  and  it  was  in  this  way  that  John 
Cassilis,  twelfth  Lord  Heronford,  went  to  his  own  place. 


CHAPTER  III 

I    FIND    A    NEW    FRIEND 

MR.  WILLIAM  CASSILIS  was  the  only  member  of  Lord 
Heronford's  family  who  was  present  at  his  funeral.  He 
had  been  in  the  neighbourhood — indeed,  I  might  almost 
say  in  the  house— when  my  lord  died.  In  any  case  he 
appeared  on  the  morning  following,  his  face  swollen  and 
flushed,  his  eyes  red  and  his  hands  trembling  like  one 
just  emerging  from  a  prolonged  debauch ;  and  at  once, 
and  with  a  great  show  of  authority,  took  the  direction  of 
everything  into  his  own  hands,  and  prepared  to  celebrate 
his  father's  funeral  in  the  manner  that  seemed  to  him 
most  fitting.  Certainly  death  is  the  soundest  of  all  sleeps 
or  my  lord  had  arisen  in  anger  and  indignation  from  the 
oak  coffin  in  which  he  was  lying,  and  had  driven  the  in- 
truder from  his  house.  The  wine  and  ale  were  flowing 
all  day  long ;  the  tables  were  spread  continually  as  though 
the  occasion  was  a  festival ;  the  doors  were  thrown  open, 
and  all  the  world  of  idlers,  topers,  and  jockeys  flocked 
like  hungry  birds  to  the  good  cheer. 

Mr.  Will  did  not,  indeed,  show  himself  much  in  pub- 
lic but  sat  in  his  late  father's  room,  surrounded  by  a 
select  crowd  of  boon  companions,  drinking  early  and 
late,  and  playing  at  cards  without  intermission.  You 
cannot  imagine  a  greater  change  than  that  which  took 
place  in  the  short  space  of  four-and-twenty  hours. 
Formerly  we  had  spoken  only  in  whispers,  and  silence 

33 


34 


HERONFORD 


had  filled  the  darkened  rooms  and  corridors ;  now  the 
chambers  were  brilliantly  lighted,  the  doors  were  swing- 
ing continually,  and  the  sound  of  tipsy  laughter  sounded 
like  mockery — as  indeed  it  was — in  the  ears  of  death. 

It  is  true  that  I  had  not  loved  my  lord  during  his  life, 
but  it  was  natural  that  I  should  feel  some  grief  at  the 
death  of  the  only  protector  I  had  ever  known,  and  I 
remained  alone  in  my  own  room,  more  lonely  than  I  had 
ever  known  myself,  a  prey  to  my  grief,  and  filled  with 
an  unmeasured  indignation  which  I  could  not  put  into 
words.  No  one  troubled  himself  regarding  me  j  I  re- 
mained forgotten  and  unnoticed,  and  I  shrank  with  a 
peculiar  sensitiveness  from  the  crowd  that  filled  the 
rooms  and  passages.  I  was  not  present  at  my  lord's 
funeral,  nor  did  I  witness  the  closing  scene,  though  I 
would  willingly  have  done  so. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  following  Monday  I  saw 
through  the  early  snow  that  was  falling  in  large  infre- 
quent flakes  the  coffin  being  borne  down  the  drive  to- 
ward Heronford  Church  and  Mr.  Will  following  some 
dozen  paces  behind,  wrapped  to  the  chin  in  his  horse- 
man's cloak  and  walking  very  unsteadily.  Then  there 
came  a  great  crowd  of  hangers-on  and  dependants,  who 
displayed  gaiety  rather  than  grief,  but  there  were  none 
of  the  old  lord's  acquaintances  or  equals  present,  and  the 
procession  was  rather  a  comedy  than  the  closing  scene 
of  another  human  tragedy.  Perhaps  the  lonely  youth 
looking  from  the  window,  and  remembering  the  last 
kindly  words  and  the  affectionate  pressure  of  the  old 
hands  upon  his  shoulders,  dropped  some  regretful  tears, 
but  for  all  that,  it  remains  to  be  said  that  John  Cassilis 


I  FIND  A  NEW  FRIEND  35 

went  to  his  grave  unloved  and  unmourned,  and  followed 
by  the  laughter  and  jests  of  the  crowd  he  hated  and  de- 
spised. 

It  was  not  to  be  hoped  that  there  would  be  any  change 
in  the  new  order  after  the  funeral,  for  Will  Cassilis 
found  his  temporary  authority  too  pleasant  to  relinquish 
almost  at  the  moment  of  his  taking  it  up.  After  all  his 
years  of  the  lean  kine  he  had  now,  at  least  for  a  brief 
period,  an  uncontrolled  opportunity  to  gratify  his  vicious 
tastes  in  his  own  manner.  I  do  not  know  whether  Her- 
onford  had  ever  seen  anything  like  his  reign  before,  but 
I  am  sure  it  will  never  forget  that  brief  tempestuous  des- 
potism. Comus  and  his  revellers  filled  the  house  with 
the  sound  of  their  swinish  merriment,  and  turned  the 
night  into  day  with  a  thousand  excesses  which  I  am  un- 
willing to  describe,  as  I  was  pained  and  shocked  to  wit- 
ness them.  A  few  of  the  old  servants  still  remained, 
astonished  and  bewildered  by  the  new  order,  and  among 
them  my  lord's  faithful  servant  Osborne,  who  had  almost 
seemed  to  himself  and  to  me  as  much  a  part  of  Heronford 
as  the  grey  stone  lions  at  the  main  door.  I  think  Mr.  Will 
was  afraid  to  meddle  with  him,  though  he  did  not  spare 
his  old  legs,  and  cracked  his  jokes  upon  him  in  his 
clownish,  insolent  way  till  the  old  man  found  himself 
seeking  my  company,  whom  he  had  always  coldly 
avoided,  with  his  eyes  streaming  and  his  heart  well-nigh 
broken.  He  needed  some  confidant  into  whose  ears  he 
might  pour  the  story  of  his  wrongs ;  there  was  at  least 
repose  and  quiet  in  the  little  chamber  at  the  head  of  the 
staircase,  and  sympathy  in  the  eyes  of  its  occupant. 

"  Listen  to  them,"  he  would  say.    "  I  found  that  run- 


36  HERONFORD 

agate,  Dick  Scattergood,  sitting  in  my  lord's  chair  and 
drinking  his  favourite  tokay  out  of  a  tankard  as  if  it  had 
been  common  ale.  And  that  painted  Jezebel  wanted  me 
to  dance  with  her,  who  have  been  in  the  house  man  and 
boy  for  fifty  years  !  And  my  lord  hardly  cold  yet !  Oh, 
he  can  never  rest  through  these  wild  doings  !  They  are 
bringing  down  the  judgment,  and  some  night  soon  they 
will  have  my  lord  coming  into  them  fresh  from  the 
churchyard  and  all  the  old  Heronfords  behind  him. 
They  were  always  a  proud,  stiff-necked  race,  alive  and 
dead,  and  my  dead  lord  won't  stand  the  Hall  being 
turned  into  a  tavern." 

I  am  certain  he  believed  this  and  looked  confidently 
for  some  supernatural  visitation  as  the  result  of  Mr. 
Will's  riotous  and  vicious  conduct. 

As  yet  the  latter  and  myself  had  never  met,  and  I  need 
scarcely  say  I  shrank  from  the  thought  of  such  an  en- 
counter. That  he  must  have  known  very  well  of  my 
presence  in  the  house  there  could  be  little  doubt,  but  it 
is  likely  that  more  pleasant  and  congenial  occupations 
prevented  him  for  the  time  from  disturbing  my  solitude. 
I  can  write  of  him  now  without  bitterness,  but  at  that 
time  I  endured  the  agony  of  a  shy  and  sensitive  lad  when 
I  heard  his  voice  at  a  distance,  and  trembled  when  I 
heard  a  footstep  on  the  stair.  I  must  confess  also  that  I 
shared  Osborne's  superstitious  fears,  for  these  had  grown 
with  me  as  a  part  of  my  life,  and  I  watched  for  the  tall 
figure  and  listened  for  the  heavy  step,  as  though  the  old 
lord  were  returning  from  a  journey,  long  after  the  lights 
had  gone  out  and  silence  had  closed  on  the  sacrilegious 
merriment. 


I  FIND  A  NEW  FRIEND  37 

One  forenoon,  thinking  that  I  was  not  likely  to  be  dis- 
turbed, I  had  stolen  to  the  Book  Room,  almost  the  first 
time  that  I  had  ventured  thither  since  my  lord's  death. 
Having  gathered  those  volumes  that  I  intended  to  carry 
with  me  to  my  own  chamber,  I  stood  looking  down  upon 
the  deserted  pleasance  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  that 
dreary  winter  scene.  I  must  have  stood  there  for  some 
time  when  the  door  flew  open  and  Will  Cassilis  came 
noisily  in,  his  riding-whip  in  his  hand,  and  his  face,  nat- 
urally red,  more  deeply  flushed  with  his  exercise.  For  a 
moment  he  seemed  surprised  to  find  me  here,  and  then 
burst  into  a  loud,  unpleasant  laugh  that  seemed  to  come 
in  part  from  ill-nature  and  in  part  from  amusement. 

"  Ho !  ho  !  "  he  cried,  "  I  have  smoked  out  the  young 
fox  at  last.  The  whelp  ran  very  shy  of  me.  This  is 
your  lair,  then  ?  " 

I  made  no  answer  but  stood  looking  at  him  almost  in 
consternation.  Even  though  it  was  still  early  in  the  day 
he  had  already  made  his  libations  to  Bacchus,  but  as  I 
looked  at  him  I  could  plainly  see  a  change  coming  over 
his  countenance,  only  to  be  compared  with  that  of  a  man 
who  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  meets  a  well-known  face 
in  a  crowd. 

"  By — 'tis  true  as  the  gospel.     Is  it  Dick  or ?  " 

Then  he  stopped  and  looked  at  me  curiously,  but  the 
smile  had  now  gone  from  his  lips. 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  am,  my  young  Jesuit  ?  " 

I  answered  that  I  knew  him  to  be  Mr.  William  Cassilis. 

"  As  you  will  learn  some  day  'tis  a  wise  son  knows  his 
own  father,  but  'tis  like  enough  we  are  twigs  of  the  same 
tree.  I  have  heard  a  whisper  of  this  before,  and  upon 


38  HERONFORD 

my  soul  I  believe  it  now.  You  are  growing  too  old  for 
Heronford." 

I  answered  that  I  had  been  there  all  my  life,  thinking 
at  the  time  that  drink  made  a  man  talk  curiously. 

"Then  you  never  have  heard  much  good  of  me,  I 
will  take  my  oath." 

I  said  I  had  never  heard  anything  about  him,  good  or 
bad,  and  at  that  he  laughed  and  shook  his  head  with  a 
knowing  look. 

"  Ay,  ay,  he  rode  a  high  horse,  and  it  carried  him  to 
the  last  fence.  Dick  favours  him  at  odd  times,  and  has 
the  same  cursed  trick  of  temper,  but  he  can't  stay.  I  was 
always  a  jolly  fellow  and  loved  a  jolly  fellow.  Dick  won't 
have  you  in  the  house;  you  are  too  cursedly  like  the 
family  portraits  for  that ;  he  won't  stand  them  sitting 
down  at  the  table  with  him,  especially  when  they  come 
in  on  the  wrong  side,  d'ye  understand  ?  You  will  have 
to  march.  For  me  I  don't  mind — not  a  damn.  I  like 
my  friends  about  me — the  more  the  better  cheer.  But 
Dick  is  master  here.  Lord  !  I  can  see  his  face  when  he 
hears  how  I  have  warmed  the  house  for  him.  We  must 
both  make  the  most  of  our  time,  lad.  When  the  piper 
has  changed  the  tune  it  will  be  time  enough  for  us  to 
change  our  dancing." 

Though  upon  the  whole  the  interview  was  not  of  that 
unpleasant  nature  that  I  had  feared  and  anticipated  it 
caused  me  a  good  deal  of  disquietude,  and  I  began  to  look 
forward  to  the  coming  of  the  new  lord  with  a  certain 
anxious  foreboding.  That  Will  Cassilis  was  in  his  own 
way  afraid  of  his  brother  I  could  very  well  see,  and  what 
hope  was  there,  I  thought,  for  one  quite  unknown  and 


I  FIND  A  NEW  FRIEND  39 

friendless  like  myself,  in  the  house  of  one  upon  whom  I 
could  have  no  claim  and  who  could  only  regard  me  as  an 
intruder,  or  at  the  most  a  claimant  upon  his  charity.  That 
the  late  Lord  Heronford  had  some  personal  reason  for  his 
kindness  I  had  now  come  to  think,  though  in  a  vague 
way ;  and  if,  as  youth  is  prone  to  do,  I  indulged  in  any 
dreams  regarding  my  birth,  they  were  sure  to  end  in  a 
blush  of  shame  and  a  feeling  of  humbled  pride.  I  was 
sure  that  in  some  way  I  was  connected  with  my  late  lord's 
family,  though  such  association  brought  me  no  advantage 
and  conferred  no  honour.  Rather  it  was  a  thing,  if  pos- 
sible, to  be  concealed,  and  this  thought  added  to  the  soli- 
tude and  isolation  in  which  I  was  placed. 

Will  Cassilis  did  not  again  intrude  upon  me ;  it  is  quite 
possible  that  he  forgot  my  very  existence.  He  certainly 
made  the  most  of  his  brief  hour  of  power  and  enjoyed 
himself  to  the  fullest  while  his  sun  shone.  But  that 
suffered  from  an  early  eclipse,  and  so  suddenly  that  his 
day  ended  in  the  midst  of  his  festivity. 

Perhaps  I  was  the  only  one  who  saw  the  chaise  and 
pair  of  horses  being  driven  up  the  avenue,  and  a  tall  gen- 
tleman clad  from  head  to  foot  in  black  leisurely  descend- 
ing, standing  to  give  instructions  to  his  single  servant, 
and  walking  to  the  door  with  an  air  which  was  strangely 
familiar  to  me.  I  knew  in  a  moment  that  the  new  master 
of  Heronford  had  arrived,  and  those  fears  which  Will 
Cassilis  had  awakened  were  by  no  means  allayed  as  I 
watched  the  stern  dark  figure  walking  slowly  to  the  door. 
I  knew  that  he  was  lately  a  widower,  but  I  had  expected 
to  find  him  younger.  He  seemed  to  me  to  be  already  an 
old  man,  and  I  could  see  that  his  hair  was  almost  grey. 


40  HERONFORD 

He  was  as  tall  as  the  late  lord  and  bore  himself  with  the 
same  erectness. 

I  do  not  know  what  occurred  upon  his  arrival,  but 
whatever  happened,  his  action  must  have  been  prompt 
and  decisive.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Mr.  Will's  boon 
companions,  with  many  oaths  I  have  no  doubt,  were 
seeking  other  quarters,  and  with  as  great  haste  as  they 
had  ever  shewed  in  their  lives  j  the  cards  and  song-books 
were  thrown  into  the  fire,  and  the  litter  of  glass  which  had 
been  permitted  to  accumulate  in  the  hall  was  swept  into 
the  dust-heap.  In  a  shorter  time  than  I  can  tell  you 
every  trace  of  the  late  saturnalia  was  carefully  removed. 
What  passed  between  the  two  brothers  will  never  be 
known,  but  for  some  time  Mr.  Will  treated  the  new  lord 
with  a  deference  which  showed  that  he  had  learned  where 
his  interest  lay.  Indeed,  as  you  will  see,  no  two  men 
were  ever  more  different,  and  if  Mr.  Will  usually  got  his 
own  way  it  was  because  his  brother  was  too  indolent  or 
careless  to  interfere. 

My  farthest  hope  was  that  I  myself  might  escape  ob- 
servation, and  I  was  certainly  very  far  from  expecting 
what  eventually  occurred.  I  never  dreamt  for  a  moment 
that  I  could  have  any  interest  for  my  lord,  or  that  upon 
the  very  day  of  his  arrival  we  should  be  placed  upon  that 
footing  upon  which  we  stood  till  the  day  of  his  death.  I 
believe  that  Mr.  Will  in  their  first  altercation  had  referred 
in  plain  terms  to  my  presence  in  the  house,  and  that  my 
lord  had  immediately  silenced  him  with  a  threat  which  the 
latter  had  no  desire  should  be  put  into  execution.  In 
any  case  my  lord  was  perfectly  aware  of  my  presence  in 
the  house  and  the  position  I  had  occupied  in  his  father's 


I  FIND  A  NEW  FRIEND  41 

time.  Indeed,  I  found  that  he  knew  more  than  this,  but 
of  that  I  shall  write  later. 

It  was  some  way  on  in  the  evening  when  my  lord  paid 
me  his  first  visit.  I  had  lighted  my  little  lamp  and  was 
seated  before  my  books  far  away  in  a  sunny  dreamland, 
solitary  no  longer  nor  touching  earth  at  all.  But  I  heard 
my  lord's  hand  upon  the  door,  and  as  he  came  in  I  rose 
up,  making  a  respectful  bow  and  closing  my  book.  He 
looked  quite  pale  and  worn,  and  his  eyes  had  a  weary  and 
melancholy  look,  but  were  full  of  kindliness.  Indeed, 
with  the  quick  instinct  of  a  child,  I  had  no  sooner  seen 
his  face  than  I  felt  that  I  had  found  a  friend,  and  the 
fear  that  had  tightened  about  my  heart  relaxed  in  a  mo- 
ment. Without  speaking  he  took  a  chair  near  me,  and 
folding  his  hands  upon  the  table — the  very  attitude  that 
was  customary  with  his  father — he  looked  at  me  out  of 
his  kind,  weary  eyes. 

Then  he  spoke  in  his  low,  pleasant  voice. 

"  I  am  the  new  Lord  Heronford.  What  is  your  name, 
my  boy  ?  " 

"I  am  called  John  Cassilis,  but — "  I  hesitated. 

"  Ah  ! " 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  any  right  to  that  name, 
my  lord,"  I  said,  flushing  hotly  and  with  a  sudden  cour- 
age. 

"Who  said  you  had  no  right  to  be  called  by  that 
name  ?  "  he  said  sharply. 

"  I  have  only  thought  that,"  I  answered,  hanging  down 
my  head.  "  I  do  not  know." 

"  There  are  things  of  more  importance  than  a  man's 
name,"  he  said  slowly,  "  but  a  good  name  is  not  to  be 


42  HERONFORD 

despised.  You  need  not  blush  for  your  name;  but  there 
are  reasons — remember  there  are  good  reasons — why  you 
should  not  know  more  than  that.  Some  day  you  will 
know  but  not  yet.  Do  not  think  it  matters  much.  I  am 
not  a  good  man,  but  I  am  your  friend." 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  me  across  the  table,  and  I 
placed  mine  in  his  hot  palm. 

"  I  have  never  had  a  friend,"  I  said.  "  I  am  glad  your 
lordship  will  be  my  friend." 

"  Your  eyes  are  like  your  mother's !  I  knew  your 
mother,  my  child." 

Here  was  a  new  bond  between  us,  for  that  name  (alas ! 
it  was  only  a  name  and  not  even  a  memory)  always 
touched  my  heart  like  a  note  of  sweet  music. 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  something  about  my  mother,"  I 
said,  looking  up  at  him  with  a  sudden  appeal,  but  he 
seemed  to  shrink  at  my  words,  and  let  my  hand  fall 
which  he  had  continued  to  hold. 

"  It  was  a  long  time  ago — almost  before  you  were  born 
— and  she  was  only  a  girl,  a  beautiful  girl,  with  the  finest 
spirit,  and  the  sweetest,  strongest  heart.  It  is  strange 
that  you  and  I  should  sit  talking  about  her  here,  and  that 
to-morrow,  perhaps,  we  should  visit  her  grave  together. 
And  I  knew  your  father  " — he  paused  and  then  went  on 
with  a  sudden  change  in  his  voice — "  but  of  him  you 
must  never  speak." 

"  Why,  my  lord  ?  "  I  cried  impulsively. 

"  Because  he  broke  the  best,  the  truest,  and  most  faith- 
ful heart  in  the  world ;  because  he  broke  every  law  of 
God  and  man,  and  because  he  is  dead  and  buried.  The 
world  never  knew.  She  was  an  angel  of  God." 


I  FIND  A  NEW  FRIEND  43 

There  was  a  long  pause ;  I  could  see  that  he  was  deeply 
moved. 

"  The  world  thought  your  father  a  splendid  gentleman, 
John,  but  it  never  saw  his  heart.  Even  the  wife  who 
slept  in  his  bosom,  and  who  came  to  hate  him  before  she 
died,  never  knew  his  suffering.  He  came  to  be  a  very 
old  man  before — before  he  died." 

"  Dead  !  "  I  said,  with  a  feeling  of  relief. 

"  Dead — yes,  dead,  soul  and  spirit,  mind  and  body, 
dead  and  buried.  We  need  not  weep  for  your  father." 

"  I  am  glad  that  he  is  dead,"  I  said  firmly. 

"  He  was  not  a  good  man,"  said  my  lord  gravely,  "  but 
he  has  had  his  reward  and  his  works  have  followed  him. 
We  must  be  friends  if  only  for  your  mother's  sake." 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  and  manner  that 
affected  me  exceedingly.  Altogether  unaccustomed  to  the 
language  of  tenderness,  I  caught  hold  of  his  hand  and 
kissed  it  passionately.  He  did  not  at  first  prevent  me,  but 
then  he  slowly  withdrew  it  and  placed  it  upon  my  head. 


CHAPTER   IV 

IN    THE    DAYS    OF    MY    YOUTH 

IT  was  not  long  before  the  domestic  life  of  Heronford 
began  to  flow  in  that  quiet  and  monotonous  stream  which 
continued  undisturbed  and  unruffled  for  some  years. 
Madam  Cassilis  had  arrived  from  London  and  had  taken 
up  the  government  of  her  brother's  house  with  that  high 
hand  and  imperious  will  which  distinguished  her  beyond 
most  women,  and  had  it  been  possible  for  any  living  being 
to  move  my  lord  she  at  least  might  have  accomplished  it. 
But  we  were  not  long  in  discovering  that  my  lord,  with 
all  his  quiet  ways  and  air  of  settled  melancholy,  having 
once  made  up  his  mind,  was  not  to  be  moved  by  any  in- 
fluence or  argument,  and  presented  on  all  sides  a  passive 
resistance,  which  was  inexpugnable.  From  the  first  he 
refused  to  see  any  company,  and  every  attempt  that  was 
made  to  overcome  that  resolution  was  met  by  a  quiet 
smile  more  eloquent  than  the  strongest  negation. 

"  I  have  seen  too  much  of  the  world,"  he  would  say, 
"  and  have  grown  in  love  with  solitude.  I  have  had  my 
time  and  must  now  pay  for  it;  I  cannot  be  tempted. 
Will  has  his  friends,  choice  spirits,  noble  wits  who  flour- 
ish in  the  alehouse,  and  is  esteemed  a  fine  companion,  but 
I — I  am  too  much  in  love  with  myself,  Judith,  to  spend 
my  time  upon  others." 

In  this  way  it  came  about  that  Heronford  was  almost 
as  solitary  as  it  had  been  in  the  late  lord's  time,  and  the 
neighbouring  gentry,  who  had  hoped  to  find  a  change, 

44 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  MY  YOUTH          45 

were  not  long  in  discovering  that  they  were  unwelcome 
visitors,  and  soon  altogether  ceased  to  trouble  us.  Mr. 
Will  entertained  his  friends  abroad,  and  usually  returned 
home  late  at  night  from  the  "  Heronford  Arms,"  very 
unsteady  on  his  legs  and  inarticulate  in  his  speech,  to 
sleep  off  his  debauch  in  his  own  room.  He  had  come 
to  regard  me  with  suspicion  and  dislike,  and  watched  my 
lord's  increasing  familiarity  and  friendship  with  a  jealousy 
which,  never  openly  manifested,  showed  itself  in  a  thou- 
sand trivial  ways. 

I  found  that  my  lord's  first  proffer  and  promise  of 
friendship  was  not  a  mere  idle  form  of  speech,  but  that 
his  first  kindness  grew  and  ripened  into  affection  and 
tenderness.  This  was  never  shown  in  public,  for  then 
he  displayed  toward  me  some  reserve  and  coldness,  but 
in  the  privacy  of  his  own  room  his  real  nature  opened 
and  expanded.  I  say  his  real  nature,  though  I  should  not 
err  if  I  were  to  write  his  better  nature,  for  indeed  my 
lord  seemed  as  various  as  the  chameleon  and  the  creature 
of  as  many  whims  and  changes.  At  all  periods  solitary 
and  reserved,  there  were  times  when  he  would  not  utter 
a  word  for  days  together,  but  sat  in  black  and  settled 
gloom,  the  victim  of  I  know  not  what  dark  and  despond- 
ent thoughts.  But  when  this  mood  passed,  which  it  did 
as  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  as  it  had  come,  his  speech 
was  full  of  a  cynical  yet  kindly  humour  at  once  removed 
from  gaiety  and  levity. 

There  are  men  like  my  lord  who  see  in  life  only  the 
play — tragedy  and  comedy — of  marionettes ;  they  see  the 
wooden  figures  and  the  cunning  strings  that  move  them ; 
they  are  familiar  with  the  oft-repeated  story,  yet  all  the 


46  HERONFORD 

time  they  are  touched  to  kindly  yet  distant  sympathy  by 
the  good-humoured  laughter  and  the  wonder,  admiration, 
and  pity  of  the  open-mouthed  spectators. 

This  was  my  lord's  attitude  in  his  lighter  moments, 
but  indeed  it  was  never  quite  possible  to  see  the  working 
of  his  mind,  for,  as  I  have  said,  there  never  was  any  man 
more  reserved  and  less  used  to  give  expression  to  his 
feelings  and  sentiments.  Of  his  own  past  he  never 
spoke  by  any  chance ;  even  the  friends  and  acquaintances 
he  had  left  behind  him  in  the  great  world  he  had  quitted 
he  never  once  mentioned.  Whether  he  had  suffered  an 
injury  or  inflicted  one  I  did  not  know,  but  I  was  sure 
my  lord  shrank  in  pain  from  the  recollection  of  his  past 
life,  and  would  willingly  have  forgotten  it  in  the  employ- 
ments of  the  present. 

I  came  to  be  admitted  at  all  times  into  his  presence, 
and  very  soon  learned  the  nature  of  his  moods  and  the 
manner  in  which  to  treat  him.  I  found  that  he  soon 
discovered  this,  and  would  call  me  with  a  smile  his  little 
confessor,  though  I  had  no  other  feeling  than  that  of 
affectionate  regard.  Indeed,  I  came  very  early  to  love 
my  lord  almost  as  a  son  loves  his  father.  I  am  sure  it 
pleased  him  to  see  my  young  affection,  and  he  took  pains 
to  cultivate  it.  He  would  suffer  no  one  to  come  be- 
tween us,  and  when  Madam  Cassilis  in  her  masculine 
way  would  have  had  me  sent  into  the  world,  as  she  said, 
to  become  a  man,  he  answered  with  his  quiet  smile  that 
she,  at  least,  might  teach  me  that  but  not  too  roughly. 
I  had  long  since  sounded  the  depths  of  Mr.  Ballard's 
learning,  and  had  taught  him  to  fear  me  more  as  a  pupil 
than  I  had  ever  reverenced  him  as  a  master, 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  MY  YOUTH          47 

It  was  now  that  my  lord  himself  took  up  the  direction 
of  my  studies,  and  we  spent  many  pleasant  evenings  to- 
gether in  my  old  playground,  the  Book  Room.  It  was 
now  that  he  first  named  me  his  young  secretary — a  title 
which  he  bestowed  upon  me  in  jest,  but  it  was  not  very 
long  before  I  came  to  fill  that  position  in  earnest,  and 
was  soon  initiated  into  the  management  of  the  estate,  the 
affairs  of  which  had  become  complicated  almost  beyond 
unravelling.  My  lord  was  pleased  to  say  that  I  had  a 
good  head  for  business — he  himself  could  never  under- 
stand figures — but  at  least  I  was  willing  to  be  useful  to 
my  patron,  and  I  think  the  efforts  I  made  were  not  with- 
out some  success.  His  deceased  wife's  fortune  had 
either  been  dissipated  or  had  proved  to  be  merely  vi- 
sionary— I  could  never  rightly  tell  which — and  the  late 
lord,  with  all  his  desire  to  save  in  trifles,  had  allowed  his 
larger  interests  to  remain  completely  neglected.  With 
all,  my  Lord  Heronford  was  a  poor  man  and  had  never 
a  large  supply  of  ready  money,  though  sufficient  for  his 
limited  expenditure.  I  knew  that  these  things  never 
troubled  him,  and  he  met  my  fears  with  the  same  easy 
smile  with  which  he  would  have  met  his  final  ruin. 

No  brother  was  certainly  ever  more  generous,  and 
while  himself  practising  the  most  modest  economy  Mr. 
Will  had  always  enough,  perhaps  a  superfluity,  to  indulge 
those  tastes  and  habits  which  distinguished  him.  As  a 
patron  of  the  prize  ring  and  a  frequenter  of  racecourses 
he  was  not  unfrequently  absent  from  home,  an  absence 
that  no  one  regretted,  for  at  Heronford  the  pigeon  and 
the  dupe  became  merely  the  bully  and  the  sot.  There 
never  was  a  greater  contrast  than  that  presented  by  these 


48  HERONFORD 

two  brothers,  who  hardly  seemed  to  be  sons  of  the  same 
house — the  one  boisterous,  rough,  and  unlettered,  the 
other  of  the  most  easy  manner  and  most  perfect  courtesy  ; 
the  one  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  his  desires,  the  other  ap- 
parently regardless  of  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  and 
having  no  outlook  beyond  the  dull  circuit  of  his  daily  life. 

So  long  as  his  own  privacy  was  undisturbed  he  gave 
Mr.  Will  his  own  way  and  liberally  provided  him  with 
means.  One  thing,  however,  he  would  not  tolerate,  his 
brother's  friends  and  companions  found  no  footing  at 
Heronford,  and  the  one  occasion  on  which  I  saw  him 
moved  to  anger  was  on  his  finding  Mr.  Weston  of 
Langston,  had  been  brought  to  supper  at  the  Hall.  I 
own  that  I  was  astonished  at  the  vehemence  of  my  lord's 
lauguage,  and  I  think  his  brother  was  nearly  as  much 
surprised  as  myself. 

Though  his  guest  was  not  very  sober  he  had  treated 
him  with  a  chilling  courtesy  throughout  the  meal,  and 
upon  its  conclusion,  but  with  perfect  politeness,  had  in- 
formed him  that  his  horse  was  at  the  door,  and  they  were 
accustomed  to  keep  early  hours. 

"  We  do  not  see  many  strangers,"  he  had  said,  "  and 
are,  perhaps,  the  more  anxious  for  their  safety.  The 
roads  are  dangerous,  and  there  is  a  fine  moon.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  you  will  forgive  me  that  I  do  not  press 
you  to  stay  with  us  longer,  but  it  is  now  past  our  usual 
hour  and  I  am  sure  you  are  anxious  to  be  upon  your 
road." 

Mr.  Weston,  who  had  settled  himself  down  for  a  long 
night,  and  who  had  been  hoping,  I  have  no  doubt,  that 
Lord  Heronford  himself  was  about  to  retire,  had  risen  up 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  MY  YOUTH          49 

astonished,  but  did  not  dare  to  question  his  dismissal,  and 
left  his  unfinished  bottle  with  no  very  good  grace.  It 
was  only  when  he  had  gone,  and  we  heard  the  clattering 
hoofs  ringing  on  the  gravel,  that  my  lord  gave  expression 
to  the  feeling  he  had  repressed  while  his  unwelcome 
guest  was  present. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  you  are  sober  enough  to  listen 
to  me.  If  you  are  not  I  shall  wait  till  the  morning,  for 
I  will  never  speak  again.  I  have  given  you  a  home  here; 
I  have  fed  and  clothed  you ;  I  have  given  you  means  to 
live  your  swinish  life ;  I  have  indulged  you  almost  out 
of  my  poverty ;  I  know  you  give  me  no  thanks ;  I  ex- 
pect no  gratitude.  You  think  I  am  only  a  fool  for  my 
kindness.  Do  not  mistake  me,  sir,  or  rather,  do  not 
mistake  me  twice.  This  is  my  house ;  this  is  my  table  ; 
there  is  no  will  here  but  mine.  Take  your  boon  com- 
panions to  the  tavern ;  drink  with  them  in  the  bagnio  or 
the  booth ;  play  the  fool  as  you  please  in  your  own 
haunts,  but  before  heaven,  if  you  ever  intrude  one  of 
them  upon  me  again  you  have  crossed  my  threshold  for 
the  last  time." 

He  stood  with  his  eyes  flashing,  and  though  he  hardly 
spoke  beyond  his  quiet  tone  there  was  something  in  his 
manner — I  can  hardly  describe  it — that  his  brother  cow- 
ered before  as  though  he  had  been  struck. 

This  happened  nearly  five  years  before  those  events 
occurred  of  which  I  purpose  to  write  more  fully,  but 
from  that  time  Will  Cassilis  took  care  never  to  transgress 
in  the  same  way.  Mr.  Weston,  indeed,  gave  his  own 
version  of  the  story,  a  version  very  far  from  correct,  for 
I  was  present  and  saw  what  occurred,  but  he  would  have 


5o  HERONFORD 

ridden  a  long  distance  before  he  would  again  have  stalled 
his  horse  in  my  lord's  stable  or  ventured  to  sit  down  at 
his  table. 

It  was,  perhaps,  a  curious  thing  but  Madam  Cassilis 
generally  took  her  younger  brother's  part,  though  in  her 
high  proud  way  she  herself  did  not  spare  him,  but  she 
never  understood  my  lord.  It  may  be  their  nature  was 
too  nearly  allied  for  perfect  agreement,  but  between  the 
two  there  never  was  the  least  sympathy  or  confidence. 
It  is  possible  that  a  spoiled  beauty  may  make  a  good 
wife,  but  it  is  certain  that  she  never  makes  a  sweet  old 
maid,  nor  was  Madam  Cassilis  any  exception  to  this  rule. 
The  intercourse  between  my  lord  and  herself  was  like 
the  friendly  play  of  a  pair  of  foils  that  brighten  one  an- 
other by  the  contract — a  game  of  thrust  and  parry  in 
which  her  womanly  quickness  gave  her  all  the  advantage. 
And  certainly  if  my  lord  did  not  openly  exhibit  that 
family  pride  which  was  yet  the  strongest  passion  in  his 
heart,  his  sister  asserted  her  position  with  a  cold  arro- 
gance it  is  impossible  to  describe.  Myself  she  always 
treated  as  a  mere  servant  and  dependant,  though  not  un- 
kindly, and  this  more  especially  in  her  brother's  pres- 
ence, when  she  met  his  eye  with  a  look  of  defiant  in- 
quiry to  which  he  never  made  any  answer.  I  had  grown 
so  used  to  my  position  that  such  treatment  had  ceased  to 
pain  me,  but  my  lord  never  failed  on  such  occasions  to 
atone  for  her  asperity  by  his  own  increased  friendliness 
and  affection.  I  had  come  to  think  that  he  felt  for  me 
more  than  I  felt  myself,  and  perhaps  I  was  not  far 
wrong  in  this ;  in  any  case  no  man  ever  had  a  kinder 
friend,  a  more  patient  teacher,  a  more  generous  protector. 


CHAPTER  V 

IT    WAS    A    LOVER    AND    HIS    LASS 

THE  events  which  I  am  about  to  relate  seem  naturally 
to  begin  with  the  coming  of  Mr.  Earnshaw  to  Heron- 
ford.  Before  that  time  there  is  little  to  chronicle  ;  our 
uneventful  daily  life  presented  no  feature  of  interest ; 
time  slipped  past,  leaving  no  memorial  to  mark  its  flight, 
yet  preparing  us  imperceptibly  for  those  tragic  scenes 
which  brought  sorrow  to  the  house  I  loved.  But  with 
Mr.  Earnshaw's  arrival  a  new  element  was  introduced 
into  our  dull  and  uniform  existence.  He  seemed  to 
have  brought  with  him  a  new  atmosphere,  a  new  spirit. 
We  had  grown  grey  with  lethargy  and  melancholy,  but 
at  once  he  introduced  into  our  quiet  household  the 
gaiety,  bustle,  and  activity  of  the  great  world,  the  inim- 
itable touch  of  youth,  the  breath  of  merriment.  We  had 
lived  isolated  and  apart  from  the  world ;  we  now  seemed 
to  hear  its  joyous  laughter  and  to  touch  it  with  our 
hands.  I  could  not  have  believed  after  so  many  years  of 
solitude  and  seclusion  any  one  could  have  moved  my 
lord  from  his  settled  life,  but  with  the  coming  of  his 
guest  he  seemed  to  have  caught  the  infection  of  his 
gaiety,  and  to  have  awakened  from  his  spiritual  catalepsy. 

I  remember  when  Mr.  Earnshaw  had  first  proposed  to 
visit  his  kinsman,  being  then  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
bourhood, my  lord  opposed  the  idea  very  strenuously, 
and  only  consented  to  receive  him  after  considerable  re- 

51 


52  HERONFORD 

sistance  and  upon  express  conditions.  But  almost  im- 
mediately on  his  arrival  he  was  drawn  from  his  reserve 
and  surrendered  almost  at  the  first  challenge.  It  was  like 
the  renewal  of  his  own  splendid  and  prosperous  days — 
his  guest  brought  with  him  the  laughter  and  bon-mots  of 
the  wits,  the  news  of  Almacks',  the  gossip  of  the  Court. 
His  courteous  indifference  was  first  quickened  into  curi- 
osity, and  that,  finally,  into  a  fresh  and  vivid  interest. 
Mr.  Earnshaw,  I  could  observe,  exercised  all  his  arts,  and 
I  was  pleased  to  see  my  lord  drawn  from  his  moody  self- 
seclusion.  But  this  visit,  which  at  the  outset  was  to 
have  lasted  four  days,  lengthened  into  a  fortnight,  and 
finally  the  guest  ceased  to  talk  of  his  immediate  depart- 
ure. There  could  be  no  doubt  my  lord  enjoyed  his  so- 
ciety beyond  anything  I  had  known;  they  were  very 
equally  matched  in  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  each 
capped  the  other's  story  without  pause. 

To  hear  them  talk  was  to  myself  the  introduction  to  a 
new  world.  At  first  my  lord  would  retire  after  dinner, 
as  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  doing,  but  in  a  short  time 
they  got  into  the  habit  of  sitting  over  their  wine,  and 
afterwards  of  taking  a  hand  at  cards,  when  I  was  seldom 
present.  How  these  came  to  be  first  introduced  I  do 
not  know,  but  the  fascination  they  had  always  exercised 
over  Lord  Heronford  appeared  to  revive,  though  he 
would  not  admit  so  much  to  himself.  It  was  very  like 
him  to  trifle  with  this  temptation.  I  have  seen  him  sit- 
ting out  while  his  brother  and  Mr.  Earnshaw  were  play- 
ing, and  toying  with  his  book  that  he  was  pretending  to 
read.  However,  though  he  played  frequently  he  lost  no 
large  sums  of  money,  though  I  do  not  think  he  won,  and 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        53 

the  players  were  pretty  equally  matched.  But  Earnshaw 
was  a  gentleman  of  very  large  means,  and  the  stakes  for 
which  they  played  appeared  to  me  quite  disproportionate 
to  my  lord's  limited  fortune. 

Upon  a  certain  afternoon  we  had  been  dining  with 
more  than  our  customary  conviviality,  Lord  Heronford 
being,  in  what  for  him  were  very  high  spirits.  Mr. 
Will  and  the  Vicar,  the  only  stranger  who  ever  joined 
the  party,  were,  I  remember,  engaged  in  an  animated  dis- 
cussion over  the  merits  of  a  horse  which  the  former  had 
sold  the  day  before,  and  they  both  agreed  with  some 
humour  that  there  were  surprises  in  store  for  the  pur- 
chaser. Mr.  Earnshaw  and  my  lord  occasionally  joined 
in  this  conversation,  but  for  the  most  part  laughed  and 
chatted  very  pleasantly  by  themselves,  relating  certain  rec- 
ollections of  the  prize  ring  of  which  Lord  Heronford  had 
been  an  enthusiastic  patron.  It  was  a  matter  of  such 
unusual  occurrence  to  hear  my  lord  refer  to  the  past  that 
I  listened  with  great  attention  to  their  talk,  and  thought 
it  a  very  good  sign  to  see  him  so  bright  and  cheerful. 

Taking  no  part  myself  in  the  conversation  I  watched 
him  as  he  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  I  said  to  my- 
self, looking  at  his  fine  face,  his  pleasant  smile,  and  the 
pose  of  his  noble  head,  that  never  was  a  man  kinder  and 
handsomer  than  my  dear  master.  On  this  occasion  his 
animation  had  brought  a  flush  to  his  cheeks,  and  his  eyes 
were  quite  bright  and  sparkling.  Mr.  Earnshaw  cer- 
tainly had  the  happy  knack  of  drawing  him  out,  and  I  am 
sure  took  some  pleasure,  as  he  felt  some  pride,  in  break- 
ing down  the  barrier  of  reserve  behind  which  he  had 
taken  refuge. 


54  HERONFORD 

Having  upon  this  afternoon  an  errand  of  my  own,  and 
seeing  that  the  gentlemen  were  likely  to  sit  a  long  time 
over  their  wine,  I  slipped  quietly  and  unobserved  from 
the  table  and  ran  to  my  own  room.  Then  I  went 
through  the  little  door  into  the  south  garden,  and  ran 
down  the  walk  toward  the  wicket  that  leads  upon  the  cliffs. 

I  closed  the  gate  behind  me  and  walked  rapidly  along 
the  cliffs,  the  little  book  that  I  had  gone  for  carried 
under  my  arm.  The  sea  that  lay  in  almost  a  summer 
calm  had  caught  a  hundred  lights  from  the  setting  sun, 
and  broke  in  a  long,  plaintive  murmur  on  the  sands  far 
below  me.  From  the  top  of  the  downs  where  the  cliffs 
broke  I  could  see  Carnforth  and  the  captain's  house, 
with  its  red  roof,  high  chimneys,  and  tangle  of  enclosed 
garden ;  and  I  thought  once  I  could  catch  a  glimpse  of 
a  white  figure  among  the  walnut  trees.  It  was  not  the 
first  time  coming  from  Heronford  that  I  had  waved  my 
handkerchief  as  a  signal  here,  and  had  caught  the  an- 
swer from  the  distant  garden,  but  this  afternoon  I  looked 
in  vain  for  a  response. 

My  way  led  down  the  broken  cliffs,  along  the  deep, 
dry  sands  on  which  walking  was  not  easy,  and  then  upon 
a  stretch  of  short  sea  grass  that  ended  with  the  little 
river  and  a  wooden  bridge  across  it.  Here,  a  hundred 
paces  away  and  backed  by  a  little  hill  covered  with  firs 
and  poplars,  was  an  old  house  set  in  the  heart  of  a 
garden  that  grew  almost  in  wild  and  unrestrained  luxuri- 
ance. 'Tis  hard  to  draw  in  words  any  picture  of  this 
house,  builded  apparently  upon  no  definite  plan  or  de- 
sign, with  its  offshoots  of  little  gables  and  long  red 
chimneys ;  its  half  a  dozen  separate  roofs  of  different 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        55 

heights ;  its  quaint  porches  leading  through  low-browed 
doors,  and  its  windows  opened  without  any  thought  of 
effect  or  appearance.  A  great  hedge  of  copper  beeches 
higher  than  the  height  of  a  tall  man  ran  all  round  the 
garden,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  fine  smooth  lawn 
and  a  sun-dial  set  upon  a  twisted  column.  By  the  door, 
or  rather  by  the  main  door,  for  there  were  several,  were 
two  small  ship's  guns  mounted  upon  painted  carriages, 
and  in  a  little  arbour  on  the  left  as  you  came  up  you 
could  see  the  figure-head  of  a  noble  vessel,  all  green  and 
gold  and  a  shameless  carmine  on  the  cheeks — the  Saucy 
dretbusa's  self. 

As  I  opened  the  gate  there  was  an  air  of  sleepy  quiet 
all  about  the  place,  but  coming  nearer  the  house  I 
heard  a  ripple  of  silver  laughter,  that,  let  me  own  it  with 
an  open  mind,  brought  a  flush  to  my  face.  I  went 
round  by  the  west  side  and  then  stopped  short,  thinking 
I  had  never  seen  a  prettier  picture  in  my  life.  Upon 
the  path  stood  a  slim  figure  in  a  white  dress,  a  broad 
hat  set  upon  the  shining  curls,  and  a  bit  of  colour,  blue 
— what  I  do  not  know — about  the  waist  and  bosom. 
She  was  feeding  the  pigeons  that  fluttered  about  her  feet 
and  flew  in  little  broken  circles  round  her,  so  absorbed 
in  her  task  that  she  did  not  notice  my  approach.  But 
when  she  heard  my  feet  upon  the  gravel  she  looked  up 
with  a  demure  smile,  but  never  pausing,  while  I  stood 
bareheaded  with  my  hat  held  in  my  hand. 

"  Sit  down  on  the  seat,  Jack,  under  the  laburnum.  I 
have  a  great  deal  to  say  to  you  this  evening,  but  I  must 
give  my  pets  their  supper  first." 

I  did  as  she  bade  me,  and  for  some  time  sat  watching 


56  HERONFORD 

the  pleasant  picture  that  she  made,  till  having  shaken 
the  last  grain  out  of  the  basket,  she  came  over  and  sat 
down  upon  the  seat  with  me,  though  quite  at  the  other 
end. 

She  had  taken  off  her  hat,  which  she  held  by  its  silk 
strings,  swinging  it  slowly  as  she  watched  her  favourites 
— white  and  blue  and  brown — running,  fluttering,  jos- 
tling in  their  eagerness. 

Then  she  turned  to  me,  who  had  been  watching  her 
alone,  with  a  mock  defiance  in  her  eyes  and  a  tone  of 
simulated  reproof  in  her  voice. 

"  Now,  sir." 

"  Now,  Mistress  Victory,"  I  said,  coming  a  little 
nearer  and  trying  to  take  her  hand.  "  I  am  glad  you 
have  so  much  to  say  to  me." 

"  You  have  no  reason  to  be  glad.  Do  you  know 
what  day  this  is  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  Friday,"  I  said,  smiling. 

"  That  is  five  days  since  Monday.  You  must  sit 
where  you  are,  Jack.  It  is  five  days  since  you  sat  be- 
side me  last,  and  that  shows " 

"  It  has  seemed  like  twelve  months,  Victory." 

"  Jack  !  "  She  held  up  her  forefinger  menacingly. 
44  I  have  ceased  to  believe  you,  sir." 

"  Since  when  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Since  I  have  come  to  know  the  world.  And  oh  !  I 
had  so  much  to  tell  you." 

41 1  will  listen  for  a  week.  What  has  your  wonderful 
knowledge  of  the  world  to  do  with  me  ?  " 

44  All  men  are  the  same — there  is  no  difference  be- 
tween them." 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        57 

"  Then  I  may  go  back  to  Heronford,  and  I  thought, 
Victory " 

"  But  you  must  not  think — you  have  no  right  to 
think.  Listen,  Jack.  It  is  a  great  secret." 

"  I  will  keep  it  better  than  I  keep  my  own." 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  had  any  secrets.  But  this 
is — awful." 

She  was  smiling — half-playful,  half-serious — as  was 
her  custom  in  a  mood  like  this. 

"  I  hope  it  will  not  frighten  me,"  I  said.  "  What  is 
this  awful  secret  ?  " 

"Jack,"  she  whispered,  "  I  have  got  a — lover." 

"  But  that  is  no  secret ;  I  have  known  that  since  the 
first  day  I  saw  you.  I  have  never  forgotten  it  for  a 
moment." 

"  But  I  do  not  mean  you,  I  mean  a  real  lover." 

I  thought  my  dear  sweetheart  was  mocking  me  in  the 
playful  way  that  became  her  so  well,  and  I  answered 
lightly  — 

"  Yes,  I  know — a  real  lover.  As  he  walks  the  birds 
say —  1 1  love  her,  I  love  her ;  the  wind '  ' 

"  But,  indeed,  Jack,  this  is  serious.  I  do  not  mean 
you."  And  she  came  a  little  nearer  me. 

"  Victory  ! "  I  cried  now  for  the  first  time,  seeing  that 
beneath  her  smiles  and  laughter  there  lay  a  sober  earnest- 
ness. 

"  You  see  I  did  not  think  he  meant  anything — that  he 
rode  over  to  see  my  father,  and,  Jack — he  frightened  me." 

I  rose  to  my  feet  and  held  out  my  hands  to  her. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  I  said. 

"  It  was  on  Wednesday,  when  I  had  been  expecting 


58  HERONFORD 

you  all  day.  When  he  came  in  I  was  quite  alone  and  he 
told  me  he  loved  me,  and,  Jack — I  hate  him." 

"  But  I  do  not  understand,  dear,"  I  said.  "  Who  did 
this  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Weston,  of  Langston." 

u  Why,  he  is  old  enough  to  be  your  father  !  "  I  cried 
indignantly. 

Then  I  remember  that  I  had  met  him  here  more  than 
once  and  that  his  visits  had  been  growing  in  frequency, 
but  I  had  never  for  a  moment  had  any  suspicion  regard- 
ing their  object,  though  now  when  I  came  to  think  of  it 
I  wondered  that  I  had  been  so  blind.  Who  was  there 
who  could  see  my  sweet  mistress  and  not  instantly  love 
her  ?  Who  could  withstand  the  arch  and  radiant  inno- 
cence that  gave  her  beauty  the  charm  and  freshness  of  an 
opening  flower  ?  Who  that  saw  the  dawn  of  sweet 
womanliness  in  her  eyes  would  not  long  to  possess  the 
full  day  of  sweetness  and  tenderness  disclosed  there  ?  I 
remembered  the  first  day  I  had  seen  her  in  Heronford 
Church,  her  sweet  face  hidden  by  her  bonnet  and  her  eyes 
bent  soberly  upon  her  book.  From  that  hour  the  world 
had  changed  for  me ;  a  new  song  beating  to  a  new,  un- 
dreamt-of melody  had  filled  the  pauses  of  my  life  and 
mingled  with  my  dreams ;  a  new  interest  had  awakened 
in  the  breast  of  the  solitary  lad  and  a  new  sense  of  the 
largeness  and  joy  of  life.  I  do  not  know  whether  others 
have  experienced  the  same  feeling — with  my  discovery 
there  came  the  sense  of  sweet  possession,  a  feeling  of  pro- 
prietorship growing  out  of  the  perfect  assurance  of  my  love. 

And  now,  when  for  the  first  time  I  learned  that  others 
saw  with  the  same  eyes  and  were  moved  in  the  same  way, 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        59 

I  had  a  feeling  of  consternation  almost  as  much  as  of 
jealousy.  But  I  had  another  feeling.  To  think  of  Wes- 
ton  of  Langston,  Will  Cassilis'  boon  companion,  who 
passed  for  a  jolly  fellow,  with  his  hard  living,  hard  riding, 
hard  drinking  ways,  with  his  oaths  and  rough  manners, 
with  his  coarse,  red  face  and  cruel  eyes — it  was  little 
wonder  that  I  stood  with  a  sense  of  anger  and  indigna- 
tion in  my  heart.  And  my  sweetheart's  face  puzzled  me. 

"  You  say  nothing,  Victory,"  I  cried,  trying  in  vain  to 
read  her  eyes. 

"  What  am  I  to  say,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Say  !  Say  that  nothing  will  ever  come  between  us ; 
say  that  your  heart  is  mine  ;  that " 

"You  were  always  a  foolish  boy.  How  can  I  say 
that — and  Mr.  Weston  is " 

"  Oh  !  "  I  cried  bitterly.  "  I  know  all  you  would  say. 
It  is  true  that  he  can  give  you  a  fine  mansion  and  I — I 
can  give  you  nothing  but  myself  and  my  love.  I  have 
nothing — less  than  nothing.  I  do  not  even  know  certainly 
that  my  name  is  my  own — John  Cassilis,  son  of  nobody 
and  master  of  nothing  but  himself.  But,  indeed,  I  loved 
you,  Victory.  I  could  not  help  myself.  I  loved  you 
long  before  I  knew  I  loved  you.  I  was  wrong  and  you 
are  right;  I  am  not  fit  even  to  be  your  servant.  It  was 
a  dream — a  pleasant  dream.  I  will  waken  by-and-bye." 

I  do  not  know  what  other  wild,  ungenerous  words  I 
spoke,  and  I  am  glad  to  think  I  do  not  remember  them, 
but  my  heart  was  tossed  in  such  a  sea  of  passion  and 
doubt  and  unreasoning  jealousy  that  I  was  for  the  moment 
quite  beyond  myself.  As  I  stood  up,  flinging  out  my 
bitter  words,  she  lost  the  arch  and  playful  manner  that 


60  HERONFORD 

till  now  she  had  been  wearing,  and  looked  at  me  with  a 
tender  seriousness  that  stopped  me  in  my  tempestuous 
speech.  She  only  spoke  one  word  — 

"Jack!" 

But  that  one  word  was  more  eloquent  than  a  thousand. 
In  an  instant  my  base  suspicions,  my  selfish  fears,  my  first 
and  last  doubt,  passed  like  a  flying  shadow,  and  in  an 
agony  of  self-reproach  I  caught  her  to  my  heart,  and 
kissed  her  a  hundred  times.  For  a  moment  she  submit- 
ted to  my  embrace  and  then  gently  released  herself. 

"  I  am  wiser  than  you  are,  John  Cassilis." 

41  Wiser  and  better  a  thousand  times  !  " 

44 1  think  women  are  wiser  than  men  ;  at  least  they  do 
not  lose  their  faith  so  easily,  and  perhaps — perhaps  they 
think  more  of  these  things.  Now  sit  down  and  let  us 
talk  seriously." 

44  You  have  forgiven  me,  Victory  ?  " 

44 1  have  forgotten,"  she  said  simply;  "that  is  better. 
I  have  been  thinking,  and  I  have  thought — you  are  listen- 
ing, Jack  ? — that  we  cannot  live  always  this  boy-and-girl 
life.  Some  day  the  world  must  come  in — Lord  Heron- 
ford,  Mr.  Weston,  who  can  tell  what  ?  The  world 
makes  a  difference." 

44  It  can  make  no  difference,"  I  cried. 

44  Ah  !  you  think  so,  but  it  does.  It  was  pleasant  to 
have  our  world  all  to  ourselves,  a  little  undiscovered 
world  of  love  and  happiness,  but " 

44 1  am  listening,  dear." 

44  We  must  tell  my  father,  Jack." 

44  Yes,"  I  said,  4l  it  is  right  that  we  should  tell  him  ; 
perhaps  we  should  have  told  him  long  ago.  But  you  do 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        61 

not  know  what  he  will  do,  Victory  ?  Do  you  know  what 
he  should  do  ?  He  should  rise  up  and  say,  lMr.  Cassilis, 
or  Mr.  Whatever  is  your  name,  you  have  no  right  to 
love  my  little  girl.  She  is  set  far  as  the  sky  above  you ; 
she  is  a  rose  for  a  prince's  garden.  What  have  you  to 
do  with  her — you  a  poor  dependant,  a  nameless  pauper 
— at  best  a  drudging,  poor  relation  ?  You  are  a  good 
fellow — at  least  he  will  say  that  for  he  likes  me,  Victory 
— but  you  are  not  for  my  little  girl.  I  will  not  give  her 
to  an  admiral  of  the  blue.'  And  then  he  should' bundle 
me  out  of  his  house  and  I  should  never  see  you  again. 
Perhaps — I  cannot  give  you  up,  Victory." 

u  If  my  father  should  say  that " 

"  What  would  you  do  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  I  should  know  he  did  not  mean  a  word  of  it.  Let 
us  go  and  hear  what  he  does  say,  Jack." 

Then  she  took  my  hand  with  a  bright,  confident  look 
in  her  steadfast  eyes  and  a  smile  of  hope  and  happiness  on 
her  tender  lips,  and  we  went  together  toward  the  house. 

It  was  now  more  than  six  years  since  Captain  Blythe 
had  carried  his  household  gods  to  Carnforth — that  quiet 
port  in  which  he  had  resolved  to  moor  his  storm-tossed 
bark  after  thirty-five  years  spent  in  the  service  of  a  not 
ungrateful  country.  Thither  he  had  carried  his  models, 
his  guns,  his  wooden  leg,  and  his  fine,  fighting  spirit,  in 
sight  and  sound  of  the  sea  he  loved  ;  to  talk  of  the  great 
captains,  to  fight  over  again  the  old  glorious  fights,  and, 
as  he  hoped,  to  make  ready  for  the  last  voyage  that  all 
men  must  take  when  the  Master  Death  comes  quietly  on 
the  quarter-deck.  I  had  first  seen  him  from  above  the 
high  oak  rail  of  my  pew  staggering  like  a  ship  under  a 


62  HERONFORD 

press  of  canvas  down  the  aisle  of  Heronford  Church. 
Then,  indeed,  I  had  noticed  the  shining,  red  face,  the 
blue  eyes  with  the  light  of  the  sea  in  them,  and  the  faded 
uniform  which  he  always  wore,  but  it  was  only  when  the 
service — the  coldest,  dreariest  service  in  the  world — be- 
gan that  I  looked  up  curiously.  His  voice  rang  out  like 
a  storm-trumpet,  till  at  last  his  was  the  only  voice  that  I 
could  hear.  From  the  beginning  to  the  end — from  the 
first  solemn  words  till  the  last  Amen — that  deep  voice 
thundered  in  response — a  voice  of  fearless  faith  and  ear- 
nest piety.  It  amazed  the  sparse  congregation ;  it  dis- 
composed the  vicar;  the  clerk  suspended  his  office  in 
bewildered  indignation,  but  the  new  worshipper  saw 
nothing,  heard  nothing,  felt  nothing  but  the  mystery  and 
solemnity  of  his  devotions.  Then  when  the  church  dis- 
persed, taking  the  tall,  slim  girl  with  the  sweet  face  by 
the  arm,  he  trudged  sturdily  down  the  aisle  with  his  head 
held  erect  and  the  iron  ring  of  his  wooden  limb  echoing 
on  the  pavement. 

That  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  I  saw  him,  but 
it  was  not  long  before  I  was  made  welcome  in  the  cap- 
tain's parlour  and  drank  in  his  stories  with  the  fine  en- 
thusiasm of  youth.  Perhaps  that  enthusiasm  first  insured 
my  welcome.  I  never  tired  hearing  how  the  Belle  Marie 
was  cut  out  at  Brest;  how  single-handed  the  Wasp 
fought  three  frigates  for  the  length  of  a  whole  summer 
day,  with  forty  men  dead  on  the  decks  and  nearly  as 
many  more  dead  or  wounded  below ;  how  the  might  and 
majesty  of  England  had  made  the  sea  her  own  glorious 
heritage,  and  men  like  my  old  captain  won  her  imperish- 
able renown.  Then  I  am  sure  for  some  reason  he  came 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        63 

to  like  me  for  my  own  sake,  and  looked  eagerly  for  my 
coming.  It  was  impossible  not  to  love  and  admire  him  \ 
his  fine  contempt  for  all  form,  his  irresistible  mirth 
breaking  forth  in  loud  chuckles  of  laughter,  his  innocence 
of  the  world,  and  his  unconscious  pride  in  himself  and 
all  that  belonged  to  him.  He  had  offered  me  his  friend- 
ship without  question,  though  at  first  with  prudent  re- 
serve, and  I  was  certain  that  no  consideration  but  per- 
sonal affection  ever  entered  into  our  friendship.  He  had 
made  no  enquiry  regarding  me  or  my  condition,  and  I 
am  sure  no  thought  of  doing  so  had  ever  once  occurred 
to  him. 

But  now  the  case  was  altered,  the  situation  was  com- 
pletely changed.  Never  for  one  moment  had  he  im- 
agined that  my  boyish  friendship  for  his  daughter  had 
ripened  into  love.  He  had  seen  nothing ;  he  had  under- 
stood nothing ;  such  an  idea  must  have  appeared  to  him 
impossible  and  absurd,  and  I  knew  how  different  a  thing 
it  was  to  receive  me  as  a  friend  and  to  welcome  me  as  a 
lover ;  and  I  felt  now  that  I  had  almost  betrayed  his 
trust,  though  heaven  knows  with  no  will  of  my  own. 
The  growth  of  that  tender  love  had  been  so  spontaneous 
and  unconscious  that  I  cannot  remember  the  first  mo- 
ment of  its  revelation,  or  the  time  when  that  sweet  con- 
fidence and  mutual  knowledge  sprang  to  life.  That 
might  to  some  degree  excuse  my  offence,  but  the  offence 
remained,  and  I  knew  that  I  had  no  excuse  to  offer  in 
my  own  justification. 

Victory  halted  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold,  and 
turning  round  looked  at  me  with  a  bright,  high  look  that 
flashed  like  an  inspiration. 


64  HERONFORD 

"  Courage,  Jack,"  she  whispered,  and  then  led  me  into 
the  room  where  the  captain  sat  dozing  by  his  table,  with 
a  chart  spread  open  before  him  and  an  old  newspaper  at 
his  elbow.  We  came  up  the  room  together — I  can  see 
that  picture  yet — and  stood  at  the  other  side  of  the  table 
for  a  minute  without  a  word.  The  old  man  drew  him- 
self up  with  a  start,  and  looked  at  us  with  a  puzzled  ex- 
pression on  his  cheerful  face.  Victory  was  the  first  to 
speak. 

"  We  have  come  to  report,  Captain  Blythe,"  she  said, 
with  a  brave  smile,  and  then  her  courage  failed  her,  and 
I  felt  her  hand  trembling  in  my  own.  There  was  an- 
other pause.  I  own  as  yet  I  could  not  put  my  thoughts 
into  words,  but  I  was  now  full  of  courage. 

"  God  bless  my  soul !  "  cried  the  captain,  "  what  is 
the  matter?  " 

"I  hope  sir,"  I  said,  "  nothing  is  the  matter,  but " 

"  Then  you  hang  confoundedly  long  in  stays,"  cried 
the  captain  cheerfully.  "  Take  a  pull  on  your  weather 
braces  and  you  will  move  ahead." 

But  while  I  was  still  considering  how  I  should  put  the 
matter,  it  not  being  an  easy  one,  nor  I  having  had  much 
practice,  Victory  quitting  my  hand,  went  round  the  table 
quietly  and  knelt  down  at  her  father's  knee  — 

"  Father,"  she  said,  "  we  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"  'Tis  a  monstrous  long  story,  little  girl.  Have  those 
contraband  rascals  from  Carnforth " 

"Not  that,  sir,  but  something " 

"  It  is  right  that  I  should  tell  my  father ;  it  is  all  said 
in  a  moment.  Father,  Jack  has  told  me  that  he  loves 
me  and  I  have  told  Jack  that  I — I  love  him." 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        65 

Then  she  hid  her  shining  face  on  her  father's  knees, 
and  the  sobs,  which  she  had  resolutely  repressed,  broke 
out  uncontrolled. 

"  God  bless  my  soul  !  "  cried  the  captain,  half  rising 
from  the  table  and  reaching  for  his  pipe,  as  he  always 
did  when  greatly  agitated.  I  did  not  like  the  symptom, 
knowing  it  of  old,  but  I  kept  my  heart  up,  and  began  as 
bravely  as  I  could  — 

"It  is  all  my  fault,  sir;  I  only  am  to  blame.  I  could 
not  help  loving  Victory ;  I  have  loved  her  from  the  first 
day  I  saw  her,  and  I  am  sorry " 

"  If  anyone  should  be  sorry  it  is  I,  man.  What  the 
devil  have  you  to  be  sorry  about  ?  " 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,  that  I  am  not  worthy  of  her — sorry 
that  I  have  nothing  to  offer  her  but  my  love." 

"  It  is  a  damned  poor  outfit  for  a  long  voyage,  sir,"  cried 
the  captain,  now  purple  in  his  agitation.  "  Wait  till  you 
get  into  the  doldrums.  Oh  !  this  is  news  with  a  vengeance." 

"  I  have  kept  it  back  too  long,"  I  said ;  "  it  is  right 
that  you  should  know.  If  I  had  done  wrong " 

"  For  God's  sake  let  me  hear  no  more — not  another 
word — I  want  to  think  it  out." 

He  rose  up,  leaving  Victory  still  kneeling  by  his  chair, 
and  paced  up  and  down  the  room  with  his  short  broken 
strides,  and  making  a  curious  blowing  noise  with  his  mouth. 
At  every  two  or  three  turns  he  would  stop  short  in  his 
walk,  look  first  at  Victory  and  then  at  me,  and  then  with 
a  smothered  "  God  bless  my  soul ! "  resume  his  uneasy 
march.  I  had  never  seen  him  so  much  moved,  but  I 
could  not  tell  with  what  feelings — whether  anger,  dismay, 
or  astonishment — he  was  regarding  our  sudden  announce- 


66  HERONFORD 

ment.  We  did  not  venture  to  disturb  his  tempestuous 
meditations,  but  watched  him  almost  with  a  guilty  look 
upon  our  faces.  Then  he  stopped  abruptly  — 

"  You  say  you  love  him,  my  lass  ? "  he  cried  in  his 
deep,  strong  voice. 

But  Victory  did  not  falter  in  her  sweet  courage. 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  father.     I  love  Jack." 

Again  the  captain  resumed  his  walk,  and  again  he  blew 
out  his  lips  like  the  fine,  old  grampus  that  he  was. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  he  continued  to  walk  in  this 
way — it  seemed  like  an  age  almost — but  at  last  he  stopped, 
and  coming  over  to  the  chair  he  had  quitted  sat  down  in 
it  with  a  sigh.  Then  he  laid  his  hand  on  Victory's  head, 
and  sat  for  a  while  without  speaking  a  word,  his  great 
hand  resting  among  the  shining  curls. 

"  We  can't  help  it,"  he  said,  as  though  speaking  to 
himself;  "  'tis  the  great  law — aye,  the  law  of  God,  and 
no  man  can  say  it  nay.  The  woman  must  quit  her 
father  and  mother.  God  knows,  Victory,  I  thought  you 
were  only  a  little  girl." 

"  Nineteen  is  a  great  age,  father." 

"Ay,  ay,  Methuselah's  sister.  And  you,  John  Cassilis, 
you  silent  dog,  what  have  you  to  say  for  yourself  ?  " 

u  Only,  sir,  that  I  love  Victory  with  all  my  heart." 

"  And  let  me  tell  you  there  are  worse  things  than  love 
if  it  will  but  wash  and  wear.  I  won't  deny  I  have  been 
infernally  upset.  'Tis  no  easy  thing  to  be  turned  out 
into  the  cold  at  a  moment's  notice  and  without  as  much 
as  by  your  leave.  But  it's  according  to  nature.  I  did  it 
myself  and  never  thought  of  what  I  was  doing.  Yet  I 
never  thought  my  lass  would  leave  me." 


IT  WAS  A  LOVER  AND  HIS  LASS        67 

"  I  will  never  leave  you,  sir." 

u  Hearken  to  that,  my  gay  rover.  But  I  know  better, 
and  will  only  keep  you  while  I  can.  Come  here,  sir." 

His  voice  was  hard  and  strong,  but  his  eyes  were 
shining  with  a  kindly  light,  and  I  laid  my  hand  in  his 
with  a  swift  pulse  of  hope  throbbing  in  my  heart. 

" 1  thought  it  was  I  who  was  sailing  this  ship,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  find  I  have  made  a  mistake.  We  won't  cry  over 
that ;  we'll  try  and  make  the  best  of  it,  and  look  you,  sir, 
we  must  see  that  we  don't  break  her  heart  between  us.  I 
have  known  you  lad  and  man  for  six  years,  John  Cassilis, 
and  maybe,  after  all  is  said  and  done,  I  had  rather  see  her 
leave  me  in  your  convoy  than  anybody  else's.  You  are 
a  good  fellow,  Jack,  an  honest  fellow,  and  I  hope  God 
will  bless  both  of  you." 

I  am  not  wronging  his  honest  memory  when  I  say 
that  he  brushed  the  tears  from  his  eyes  with  his  hand, 
and  looked  up  at  me  as  through  a  mist  of  autumnal  rain. 
His  voice  was  shaking  and  his  lips  trembling.  But,  in- 
deed, my  own  eyes  were  not  dry,  for  in  the  midst  of  my 
own  happiness  I  read  his  kind  old  heart  as  though  it  had 
been  a  book.  Then  Victory  flung  her  arms  round  his 
neck  and  kissed  him  passionately. 

"  There,  there,  my  lass,"  he  said  gently,  "  it  is  all  over 
and  we  are  going  to  be  happy  again.  We  will  have  a 
bowl  of  punch,  and  Jack  and  I  will  drink  prosperity  to  a 
long  voyage  and  a  fair  wind  all  the  way.  And  look  you, 
John  Cassilis,  here  am  I  at  sixty  years,  having  worn  the 
King's  uniform  and  fought  his  battles ;  and  I  started  my 
voyage  with  nothing  in  the  world  but  hope  and  an  empty 
sea-chest.  'Tis  a  stout  heart  and  a  clear  conscience  that 


68  HERONFORD 

helps  us  to  drum  the  French  and  beat  the  devil  all  the 
world  over.  Now,  lass,  dry  your  tears  and  let  us  have 
the  punch.  And — Jack — Jack  Cassilis — I  don't  mind 
if  you — kiss  my  little  girl." 

I  can  remember  no  evening  so  pleasant  in  my  life — the 
new-risen  sun  of  love  shining  on  the  future  without  a 
shadow,  and  all  discord  lost  in  that  new  sweet  music. 

It  was  like  the  captain  to  think  of  nothing  but  his 
daughter's  happiness.  He  refused  to  permit  me  to  discuss 
my  own  hopes  or  prospects — that  might  be  done  in  the 
future  if  it  must  be  done  at  all — but  at  present  we  should 
make  the  most  of  the  shining  hour.  The  fiddlers  were 
striking  up  and  the  jolly  mariners  were  dancing ;  to- 
morrow the  winds  might  blow  and  the  seas  might  storm, 
but  to-night  love  was  playing  her  melody,  and  our  hearts 
must  keep  time  to  that  bewitching  tune. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  evening,  nor  the  moon  against 
the  western  sky,  and  the  vast  glory  of  starlight,  as  I 
walked  home  across  the  cliffs  and  listened  to  the  ripple 
of  the  tide  almost  below  the  shadow  of  Heronford. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    HONOUR    OF    HERONFORD 

WHEN  I  got  home,  it  being  then  about  eleven  o'clock, 
I  found  Mr.  Ballard  gone,  and  my  lord  and  the  two 
gentlemen  in  the  Book  Room  together.  Will  Cassilis 
and  Mr.  Earnshaw  were  playing  at  cards — the  one  flushed 
and  excited,  the  other  cool  and  sedate,  but  both  very 
quiet — and  my  lord  was  seated  by  the  hearth  with  a  book 
open  upon  his  knees  and  his  head  resting  upon  his  hand. 
He  had  not  been  playing  at  all,  pleading  a  headache,  with 
which  he  was  often  troubled,  but  I  wondered  to  see  him 
sitting  there  at  this  hour,  for  it  was  a  thing  quite  contrary 
to  his  custom. 

As  I  came  in  he  looked  up  and  merely  nodded  to  me, 
but  in  such  a  way  that  I  could  not  tell  whether  he  was 
not  displeased  to  see  me.  For  the  other  two  gentlemen, 
neither  of  them  paid  any  attention  to  my  entrance,  both 
being  too  much  absorbed  in  their  game.  I  walked  over 
and  stood  for  a  minute  or  two  behind  Will  Cassilis'  chair, 
till  I  saw  that  he  disliked  being  overlooked  in  this  way ; 
but  before  I  went  I  noticed  that  his  hands  shook  and  that 
the  stakes  were  out  of  all  reason  for  one  of  his  means.  I 
own  I  could  not  help  finding  some  fault  with  my  lord, 
who  after  all  would  have  to  pay  the  reckoning,  that  he 
permitted  his  good  nature  to  carry  him  so  far  in  the  in- 
dulgence of  this  criminal  recklessness,  for  a  word  from 

69 


7o  HERONFORD 

him  might  have  prevented  this  folly.  But  that  word  my 
lord  would  never  speak.  Upon  the  subject  of  his  poverty 
his  pride  carried  him  to  a  point  I  could  never  understand, 
and  I  am  sure  even  Mr.  Earnshaw  never  knew  how  deeply 
even  his  moderate  winnings  had  involved  his  host.  What- 
ever it  might  cost  I  knew  my  lord  would  not  now  inter- 
fere, and  I  knew  also  that  he  would  discharge  his  brother's 
indebtedness  with  the  same  punctilious  exactness  and 
outward  suavity  that  he  would  discharge  his  own.  I  had 
myself,  feeling  it  to  be  my  duty,  spoken  to  him  more  than 
once  upon  the  subject,  and  had  so  far  prevailed  upon  him 
that  he  had  remonstrated  with  his  brother,  who  as  usual 
had  promised  amendment  and  gone  on  as  before. 

As  a  rule  Will  Cassilis  was  the  most  unlucky  player  in 
the  world,  but  to-night  his  ill  fortune  had  deserted  him, 
and  by  the  time  I  came  in  he  had  won  a  considerable 
sum.  I  noticed  that  he  had  by  no  means  drunk  so  much 
as  usual,  and  with  a  permissible  laxity  of  speech  might  be 
called  perfectly  sober — a  condition  of  affairs  which  never 
improved  his  temper.  Nor  had  I  been  in  the  room  very 
long  before  I  saw  that  my  lord  was  for  some  reason  very 
unquiet  in  his  mind,  and  was  far  more  interested  in  the 
play  and  the  players  than  he  desired  to  appear.  He  would 
from  time  to  time  turn  over  the  leaves  of  the  book  upon 
his  knee,  but  his  eyes  hardly  rested  upon  the  printed  page, 
and  reading  his  face  as  I  was  always  able  to  do,  I  knew 
that  he  was  agitated  and  troubled  to  no  common  degree. 
For  this  I  was  unable  to  account,  but  looking  for  an  ex- 
planation it  occurred  to  me  that  possibly  as  a  kind  of  self- 
imposed  penance  he  was  resisting  that  temptation  which 
had  been  and  still  was  the  strongest  in  his  life.  For  my 


THE  HONOUR  OF  HERONFORD        71 

lord  was  naturally  a  gambler,  and  could  never  withstand, 
at  least  till  lately,  the  allurements  of  the  cards  and  dice. 

I  came  over  to  the  hearth  and  stood  with  my  back  to 
the  fireplace. 

"  What  is  the  night  like  out-of-doors  ?  "  my  lord  asked, 
like  one  speaking  mechanically. 

"  'Tis  a  fine  moonlight  night  and  quite  warm." 

"  Ah  !     And  nearly  bed-time  for  all  quiet  folk." 

He  said  no  more  but  I  knew  that  this  was  more  than 
a  hint,  and  I  was  about  to  leave  the  room  when  an  inci- 
dent occurred  which  held  me  fixed  in  astonishment.  The 
two  gentlemen  at  the  table  had  been  playing  almost  in 
perfect  silence — only  now  and  then  we  heard  a  word 
spoken  in  an  undertone  and  the  shuffling  of  the  cards, 
but  nothing  more.  Then  suddenly  and  without  warning 
Mr.  Earnshaw  pushed  back  his  chair  and  struck  the  table 
sharply  with  his  hand. 

"  This  has  gone  on  long  enough,  sir.  You  are  a 
common  cheat." 

The  two  gentlemen — my  lord  and  his  brother — at  the 
same  instant  leapt  to  their  feet  and  stood  looking  at  the 
speaker,  one  in  an  agony  of  horror  and  dismay,  the  other 
scowling  and  defiant.  At  first  neither  of  them  appeared 
able  to  say  a  word,  my  lord's  white  face  showing  very 
ghastly  in  the  candlelight.  But  Mr.  Earnshaw  retained 
his  perfect  self-possession,  not  raising  his  voice  in  the 
least  nor  showing  the  slightest  display  of  temper.  He 
even  went  so  far — but  I  thought  at  the  time  this  was 
merely  a  piece  of  acting  to  cover  his  agitation — as  to 
snuff  the  candle  nearest  to  him  before  he  spoke  again. 

"  You  must  remember,  sir,  you  were  not  playing  with 


72  HERONFORD 

a  schoolboy.  I  have  been  watching  you  for  some  time. 
It  was  a  common  trick  but  very  clumsy." 

I  still  remember  the  easy  contempt  of  his  tone  and  the 
fine  manner  with  which  he  tossed  his  hand  of  cards  on  the 
table.  At  this  Will  Cassilis  began  to  swear  and  bluster, 
but  my  lord  stood  very  still  and  with  a  white  face  in  the 
place  where  he  had  risen.  Indeed,  I  thought  he  would 
have  fallen,  and  I  instinctively  moved  a  little  nearer  to 
him. 

"'Tis  very  well,"  Will  cried  with  an  oath.  "We 
should  have  heard  nothing  of  this  had  I  not  won  your 
money.  You  must  not  think  to  come  over  me  in  this 

way,  sir;  I  have  seen  it  done  before.  By if  I  did 

not  remember  the  roof  you  were  under  you  should  give 
me  satisfaction  for  this  here  and  now." 

Earnshaw  smiled. 

"  Whenever  and  wherever  may  suit  the  convenience 
of  Mr.  Cassilis." 

"  By no  man  will  call  me  cheat  twice,"  Will 

cried  in  his  blustering  manner.  "  But  I  don't  forget 
whose  guest  you  are." 

"  I  am  quite  prepared  to  stand  over  my  words,  sir,  and 
repeat  them  if  necessary." 

Then  I  saw  my  lord's  face  harden,  and  he  came  for- 
ward to  the  table. 

" 1  think,"  he  said,  "  you  have  both  forgotten  me, 
gentlemen." 

Earnshaw  rose  from  his  chair  and  bowed  gravely. 

"  I  have  spoken,  my  lord,"  he  said,  "  in  the  heat  of 
the  moment,  but  I  cannot  withdraw  my  words.  I  regret 
that  for  my  own  sake  and  yours." 


THE  HONOUR  OF  HERONFORD        73 

"  It  is  a  grave  charge,"  my  lord  said  slowly  ;  "  a  seri- 
ous accusation  that  no  honourable  man  would  make 
lightly.  But  Mr.  Earnshaw  must  remember  that  my 
brother's  honour  is  mine." 

"  I  know  none  of  your  lordship's  friends  who  would 
agree  with  you.  I  cannot." 

"  Sir ! " 

"  Lord  Heronford's  honour  is  beyond  suspicion  as  it 
is  beyond  praise." 

"  At  least  no  man  ever  ventured  to  question  it.  Your 
words  imply,  sir,  what  has  never  been  said  before  in  my 
presence,  nor  will  I  permit  them  to  pass  now.  You 
know  what  you  have  said,  Mr.  Earnshaw  ?  " 

"  Lord  Heronford  does  not  desire  me  to  repeat  my 
words  ?  " 

"  They  have  been  spoken  once  too  often — that  under 
my  roof,  at  my  table,  and  in  my  presence  you  have  been 
cheated  by  a  member  of  my  family." 

"  That  is  an  unpleasant  way  of  putting  an  unpleasant 
truth." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  my  lord  said,  turning  to  his 
brother,  who  till  now  had  been  silent.  "  I  am  the  master 
in  this  house.  Mr.  Earnshaw  himself  must  see  that  for 
my  own  sake  I  cannot  permit  this  to  go  further." 

"  Perhaps,"  Earnshaw  answered,  "  your  lordship  will 
see  what  the  cards  themselves  say  ?  " 

"  I  will  see  nothing,  sir ;  I  will  hear  nothing  ;  and  re- 
lying on  my  own  unquestioned  honour  and  integrity  in 
this  way  I  answer  your  accusation." 

He  lifted  the  pack  of  cards  from  the  table  and,  walking 
slowly  over  to  the  fireplace,  flung  them  into  the  grate 


74 


HERONFORD 


and  stamped  upon  them  with  his  heel.     Then  he  turned 
round,  his  tall  figure  drawn  up  to  its  full  height. 

"  I  cannot  now  speak  more  plainly  than  I  have  done 
by  my  action.  I  do  not  forget  that  you  are  my  guest, 
but  there  are  higher  claims  than  the  claims  of  hospitality. 
The  honour  of  Heronford  is  in  my  hands;  I  will  not 
stand  here  and  see  it  called  in  question.  Now,  Mr. 
Earnshaw,  there  is  only  one  of  two  ways  out  of  this 
difficulty  :  either  that  you  withdraw  your  words,  which  I 
have  no  doubt  you  spoke  honestly,  but  labouring  under 

a  terrible  mistake " 

"  That  with  your  lordship's  permission  I  cannot  do." 
"  Then  you  accept  the  other  alternative  ?  " 
"  If  you  mean,  my  lord,  that  you  will  take  the  matter 
upon  your  own  shoulders,  I   have  sufficient  courage  to 
refuse  that  alternative  also.    There  is  no  power  on  earth 
will  make  me  cross  swords  with  you  in  this  vulgar  brawl. 
Your  brother  and  yourself  are  two  very  different  persons." 
"  In  this  matter,  sir,  we  are  one.     I  recognise  no  dif- 
ference, and  I  cannot  permit  his  character  and  reputation 
to  be  impugned  any  more  than  I  would  my  own.     And 
you  forget,  sir,  at  my  table,  in  my  presence,  almost  under 

my  very  eyes " 

"  I  forget  nothing,  my  lord,  and  least  of  all  do  I  forget 
the  pain  my  words  must  cause  you.  I  esteem  the  honour 
of  your  friendship,  and  it  is  not  my  least  regret  that  this 
incident  should  cause  a  breach  between  us.  But  even 
that  cannot  deter  me  from  speaking  the  truth  and  stand- 
ing by  my  words.  At  the  same  time  I  trust  you  will 
pardon  me  when  I  say  the  position  taken  by  your  lord- 
ship is  one  no  sensible  man  ever  would  have  anticipated." 


THE  HONOUR  OF  HERONFORD        75 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir." 

"  There  was  a  time  when  you  would  have  acted  differ- 
ently. Living  here " 

"  You  have  already  insulted  me  and  my  household, 
Mr.  Earnshaw,  but  I  will  not  further  permit  you  to  crit- 
icise my  views  and  my  conduct.  Besides,  that  is  alto- 
gether beyond  the  question.  Am  I  then  to  understand 
that  you  refuse  to  uphold  your  words  in  that  manner 
customary  among  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  Even  that  taunt  will  not  tempt  me.  In  the  same 
manner  that  your  lordship  destroyed  the  proof,"  and  he 
pointed  to  the  fireplace,  "  I  will  take  the  high  ground  and 
refuse  to  quarrel  with  you  upon  any  terms.  But  if  Mr. 
Cassilis  desires  to  go  further  I  am  always  at  his  service, 
and  he  knows  where  I  am  to  be  found." 

I  own  that  at  that  moment  my  heart  was  sore  for  my 
dear  master,  for  I  knew  that  every  word  that  had  been 
spoken  had  lacerated  his  heart  and  caused  him  infinite 
suffering.  Knowing  him  as  I  did,  in  his  strength  and 
weakness,  from  the  beginning  I  had  seen  his  mind  laid 
open  before  me.  I  felt  that  he  did  not  doubt  the  truth 
of  the  charge  to  which  he  had  listened — that  he  was  con- 
vinced in  his  own  mind  the  fact  was  as  Mr.  Earnshaw 
had  stated — but  I  knew  there  was  hardly  anything  he 
would  not  do  to  keep  that  knowledge  from  the  world  and 
cover  the  disgrace.  The  longer  he  had  lived  in  the  re- 
tirement of  Heronford  the  deeper  and  more  absorbing  his 
pride  had  grown,  till  it  seemed  to  have  become  the  dom- 
inant note  and  passion  of  his  life.  It  grew  to  a  pass  that 
was  almost  incomprehensible ;  it  swayed  him  with  a 
tyranny  that  was  absolute ;  it  interfered  with  the  prompt- 


76  HERONFORD 

ings  of  the  kindest  heart  in  the  world,  and  warped  his 
judgment  till  right  and  wrong  seemed  to  me  quite  con- 
founded. 

"  The  Honour  of  Heronford  "  ;  the  phrase  was  contin- 
ually upon  his  lips  till  I  had  almost  come  to  dread  it.  It 
centred  in  himself;  he  was  the  guardian  of  the  family 
name,  the  upholder  and  champion  of  the  family  honour. 
For  this  reason  he  had  pinched  to  pay  his  brother's  debts, 
he  had  indulged  while  he  had  screened  his  libertinism, 
and  now  for  the  same  reason  and  no  other  he  had  placed 
himself  in  a  wholly  false  position.  He  knew  that  his  own 
character  was  above  suspicion  and  his  own  honour  un- 
doubted, and  he  imagined  that  in  taking  up  his  brother's 
cause  that  in  itself  was  sufficient  to  avert  scandal  and 
save  the  situation.  I  do  not  seek  to  justify  him  or  to  ex- 
cuse his  conduct.  The  course  which  he  adopted  was 
the  only  one  that  occurred  to  him  to  avert  a  disgrace  that 
had  far  more  terror  for  him  than  death,  and  having  once 
adopted  it  he  clung  to  it  regardless  of  all  consequences. 
Perhaps  it  might  have  succeeded  with  another  person  than 
Mr.  Earnshaw,  whose  manner  and  conduct  I  must  admit 
I  could  not  help  admiring  from  beginning  to  end.  I  felt, 
so  to  speak,  that  he  knew  the  cards  in  my  lord's  hand  and 
sympathised  with  him  in  the  difficult  game  he  was  en- 
deavouring to  play.  But,  notwithstanding,  he  was  not  to 
be  drawn  from  the  position  he  had  taken  up,  and  while 
he  did  not  conceal  his  contempt  for  the  detected  cheat, 
his  manner  toward  my  lord,  while  always  firm,  was  full  of 
courteous  respect  and  regard.  I  saw  that  my  lord  per- 
ceived he  had  failed,  and  that  knowledge  added  a  thou- 
sandfold to  his  pain.  The  comedy,  that  to  him  was  all 


THE  HONOUR  OF  HERONFORD        77 

tragedy,  was  only  too  apparent,  and  the  sooner  it  was 
brought  to  an  end  the  better. 

"  We  have  now  spoken  the  last  word,  Mr.  Earnshaw," 
he  said.  "  I  cannot  doubt  for  a  moment  you  believe  you 
are  right — so  much  at  least  I  owe  you.  But  v/iser  men 
have  been  mistaken,  and  who  can  doubt  you  are  mistaken 
here  ?  If  you  please  you  can  speak  the  story  anywhere, 
but  I  shall  expect  you  will  tell  the  whole  story,  omitting 
nothing,  and  above  all  that  I  took  and  still  take  my 
brother's  part." 

"  Permit  me  to  say,  my  lord,  that  I  never  admired  you 
more  than  at  this  moment — even  when  you  tell  me  I  am 
wrong.  I  might  have  held  my  tongue — I  almost  wish  I 
had.  But  you  may  be  certain  that  our  discussion  of  to- 
night will  not  be  repeated  by  me." 

"  On  that  head,  sir,  you  will  be  pleased  to  exercise 
your  judgment.  I  regret  that  I  shall  be  unable  to  see 
you  before  you  leave  in  the  morning." 

"  I  assure  you  the  regret  is  mutual." 

With  that  the  two  gentlemen  bowed  courteously  but 
with  great  coldness  to  one  another,  and  my  lord  followed 
his  guest  to  the  door,  where  he  bowed  to  him  again. 

When  the  door  was  closed  he  walked  up  the  room  with 
his  hands  behind  his  back,  his  lips  trembling,  and  his  eyes 
shining  with  an  intense,  inward  fire.  At  the  hearth  he 
turned  and  stood  looking  at  his  brother  with  a  look  I  had 
never  seen  him  wear  before.  I  cannot  quite  say  what  I 
felt,  for  the  face  was  certainly  not  that  of  my  dear  master. 
I  could  not  have  believed  that  such  a  change  was  pos- 
sible, so  terrible  in  its  sudden  transformation,  so  ghastly 
in  its  abandonment  of  despair,  so  hard  in  its  indignant 


78  HERONFORD 

pride.  I  could  see  that  he  was  fighting  with  his  tumult- 
uous feelings  that  surged  to  find  expression,  and  it  was  a 
good  while  before  he  was  calm  enough  to  trust  himself 
to  speak.  Then  he  spoke  in  a  cold,  hard  voice. 

"  Well,  sir  ?  " 

"  By you  let  him  off  too  easily,  Richard,"  Will 

answered  with  an  uneasy  shrug,  for  there  was  something 
in  his  brother's  voice  he  did  not  like. 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  ?  " 

"  I'll  say  anything  you  like — I  don't  care  a  damn  what. 
What  would  you  have  me  say  ?  You  don't  mean  that 
you  believe  Earnshaw's  cock-and-bull  story  about  the 
cards  ?  Upon  my  soul  'tis  bad  enough  to  hear  another 
man " 

"  You  miserable  cheat  and  liar !  "  cried  my  lord,  with 
slow,  deliberate  emphasis  and  with  every  word  seeming 
to  drag  out  his  heart. 

"  Hey  !  This  is  Mr.  Facing-both-Ways  with  a  venge- 
ance." 

"  Yes,  sir.  I,  Richard  Cassilis,  Lord  Heronford,  have 
trifled  with  my  honour  to  screen  your  dishonour.  Do  you 
think  you  deceived  me  any  more  than  you  deceived  that 
fine  gentleman  who  now  pities  me  as  much  as  he  despises 
you  ?  A  cheat  !  A  lying  rogue  !  The  scandal  of  the 
country  !  A  bye-word  among  men  !  Do  you  think,  I 
say,  you  deceived  me  ?  Oh !  not  for  a  moment.  By 
heaven  !  I  read  it  in  your  face  and  the  very  motion  of 
your  hands.  You  have  soiled  me  with  the  filth  of  your 
dishonour;  you  have  made  me  a  partner  in  your  shame. 
While  I  sat  here  in  silence  and  agony  I  prayed  that  you 
might  not  be  discovered,  and  the  devil  would  not  hear  my 


THE  HONOUR  OF  HERONFORD        79 

prayer.  And  my  hands  were  tied  ;  my  mouth  was  closed  ! 
I  could  not  rise  and  say,  '  My  brother,  of  my  own  blood 
and  name,  sitting  at  my  table  and  playing  under  my  eyes, 
is  cheating  his  guest  in  the  house  of  Cassilis.  Our  kind- 
ness is  the  hospitality  of  rogues ;  we  rob  you  while  you 
sleep  ;  we  drug  your  wine  and  pick  your  pockets  ! ' ' 

"  And  then,"  cried  Will,  with  a  laugh,  "  we  offer  to 
cut  your  throat." 

It  was  a  cruel  stab ;  I  could  have  struck  him  on  the 
face  for  that  blow.  My  lord  caught  a  deep  breath,  and 
with  his  left  hand  over  his  heart  stood  looking  at  his 
brother  in  speechless  horror. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said  slowly  and  after  a  long  pause ; 
"  you  have  spoken  the  truth.  To  save  your  name — my 
name — from  the  disgrace,  I  think  I  would  even  have 
killed  my  friend.  I  did  not  see  it  in  that  way." 

"  Oh  !  It  is  a  hundred  to  one  you  would  have  made 
daylight  in  him.  No  man  ever  I  saw  could  stand  up 
against  you  with  the  foils."  , 

Strong  in  his  passions  as  he  was  infirm  in  his  judg- 
ment, my  lord  always  lived  at  the  extremity  of  his  emo- 
tions, and  now  when  his  brother's  brutal  words  had 
placed  his  conduct  in  the  strongest  light  he  was  plunged 
in  an  agony  of  shame  and  contrition. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  wailed  ;  "  I  am  judged  even  out  of 
your  mouth.  My  dishonour  is  as  great  as  yours." 

"  There  is  not  much  to  choose  between  us.  Between 
us  we  shall  keep  up  the  reputation  of  the  family  ;  'tis  a 
good  thing  it  has  little  to  lose." 

"  I  have  borne  with  you  a  good  many  years,  and  no  man 
can  say  that  I  have  not  shown  you  as  much  kindness  as 


80  HERONFORD 

you  deserve.  You  have  already  tried  me  beyond  endur- 
ance ;  I  will  stand  it  no  longer.  Another  word " 

"  I  did  not  begin  the  sermon — I  don't  want  to  end 
it,"  Will  added  with  a  significant  look  at  me.  "  I  would 
remind  your  lordship  that  I  am  not  responsible  for  the 
congregation.  Mr.  Secretary  stands  to  your  credit  in  the 
house." 

For  the  first  time  Lord  Heronford  seemed  to  become 
aware  of  my  presence  ;  till  now  he  had  wholly  forgotten 
that  I  was  in  the  room,  and  at  these  last  words  he 
looked  round  at  me  almost  with  a  look  of  fear  in  his 
face.  Moved  by  a  sudden  impulse  and  touched  by  his 
look  of  suffering  I  came  forward  and  held  out  my  hand. 
But  he  either  did  not  see  or  disregarded  the  gesture  I 
made. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "  that  you  should  have  been 
present  at  this  painful  scene.  I  should  have  wished  to 
spare  you.  But  you  are  in  some  sort  a  member  of  the 
family,  and  everything  that  touches  its  honour  must  have 
concern  and  interest  for  you.  And  it  has  its  lessons — 
hard  lessons,  bitter  lessons,  the  lesson  that  a  man  gathers 
in  his  after  years,  the  crop  of  what  he  has  sowed  in  his 
youth,  that  he  gathers  it  at  his  own  fireside  and  in  his 
own  house.  And  not  himself  alone,  but  if  he  has  chil- 
dren, then  his  sons  and  his  sons'  sons  after  him.  He 
can't  step  aside  from  fate.  I  have  something  to  say  to 
my  brother,  and  he  alone  must  hear  it.  You  will  see 
Mr.  Earnshaw  before  he  leaves  Heronford  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  tell  him  I  do  not  know " 

"  I  will  say,  my  lord,  that  your  kind  heart  wishes  him 
a  prosperous  journey,  and  that  you  never  esteemed  him 


THE  HONOUR  OF  HERONFORD        81 

more  than  when  you  last  parted  from  him  "  ;  and  my  eyes 
met  those  of  Will  Cassilis'. 

"  God  knows  that  is  true,"  said  my  lord  with  a  sigh. 

"  You  have  a  fine  gift  of  words,  Mr.  Secretary,"  Will 
said,  but  I  did  not  answer  him.  Then  I  silently  with- 
drew and  left  the  brothers  alone. 

I  do  not  know  what  happened  after  I  was  gone,  but 
nearly  an  hour  afterwards  I  heard  the  door  opened  and 
closed,  and  the  sound  of  footsteps  echoing  along  the  cor- 
ridor. But  my  lord  had  never  gone  to  bed  at  all.  He 
had  spent  the  night  in  the  Book  Room,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing, before  anyone  was  astir,  had  gone  out  in  the  first 
grey  light  along  the  cliffs. 

I  was  the  only  one  of  the  household  present  at  Mr. 
Earnshaw's  departure,  and  I  gave  him  my  lord's  message 
in  such  terms  as  I  was  able  to  command.  He  was 
standing  with  his  foot  upon  the  step  and  his  hand  resting 
on  the  window  of  the  chaise,  almost  hoping,  I  think,  that 
at  the  last  moment  my  lord  would  put  in  an  appearance. 

"  Lord  Heronford  could  not  have  said  more,  Mr. 
Cassilis,"  he  said,  when  I  had  finished,  "  and  he  could 
not  have  put  it  better.  I  have  had  a  night  to  think  upon 
it,  and  I  feel  that  I  should  not  have  spoken  at  all.  I  may 
have  been  mistaken,  and  now  dismiss  the  matter  from  my 
memory  for  ever.  In  your  ear  I  tell  you  Lord  Heron- 
ford  is  the  finest  gentleman  I  know,  but  I  have  known 
gentlemen  commit  an  indiscretion  in  the  blindness  of  their 
family  pride.  It  was  natural  that  he  should  stand  by  his 
brother,  who  also  is  a  gentleman,  but  living  too  much 
alone  is  apt  to  make  a  man  quixotic.  Convey  to  my  lord 
my  warm  regard  and  sincere  regrets  ;  I  am  still  his  friend. 


82  HERONFORD 

And  for  yourself,  do  not  live  too  long  at  Heronford  ;  the 
light  is  too  dim.  Come  up  to  town,  see  the  world,  and 
do  not  forget  there  is  one  gentleman  there  will  make  you 
welcome." 

Then  the  door  was  shut,  the  postilions  cracked  their 
whips,  and  I  watched  the  chaise  lumbering  down  the 
drive  till  it  was  lost  to  view  in  the  bend  of  the  road. 
But  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  Mr.  Earnshaw's  visit 
and  the  manner  of  his  going  had  in  many  ways  altered 
the  life  at  Heronford. 


CHAPTER  VII 

I    MAKE    LORD    HERONFORD    MY    CONFIDANT 

I  HAVE  said  I  never  knew  what  passed  between  Lord 
Heronford  and  his  brother  when  I  left  them  together  in 
the  Book  Room,  nor  did  my  lord  ever  approach  the  sub- 
ject in  my  presence  even  in  the  remotest  way.  This  was 
altogether  like  him,  and  quite  natural  to  the  man.  With 
a  feminine  sensitiveness  he  always  avoided  a  painful  sub- 
ject, and  however  much  it  might  possess  his  own  mind 
and  poison  his  own  thoughts,  he  never  could  be  induced, 
even  remotely,  to  touch  upon  it  in  conversation.  But  I 
knew  this  subject  engrossed  him  wholly ;  the  entire  trans- 
action was  one  now  only  personal  to  himself,  and  he 
brooded  upon  it  with  a  persistence  which  seemed  to  me 
childish  because  it  was  wholly  unreasonable.  It  grew  like 
a  shadow  from  the  darkness  of  which  he  was  never  able 
to  move,  and  which  drove  him  more  and  more  to  seek  that 
solitude  which  only  increased  his  morbid  thoughts. 

From  that  day  he  was  quite  changed ;  the  little  gleam 
of  playful  humour  that  used  to  light  up  his  conversation 
like  rifts  of  sunshine  entirely  disappeared.  His  interest  in 
matters  of  the  household,  always  distant,  seemed  wholly 
gone,  and  he  avoided  my  society,  which  he  had  hitherto 
welcomed,  till  I  began  to  look  for  some  cause  of  offence 
in  my  own  conduct.  At  another  time  I  might  have  felt 
it  more,  but  if  love  is  free  and  generous  it  also  possesses 
a  certain  selfishness,  and  in  my  own  happiness  I  almost 

83 


84  HERONFORD 

forgot  my  lord's  distress.  Perhaps  it  was  natural  that  I 
should  endeavour  to  escape  from  the  gloom  and  shadow 
of  the  house  in  which  I  lived,  into  the  sunshine  and 
beauty  of  the  new  world  that  lay  before  me.  The  sweet- 
ness of  the  present,  the  delicious  promise  of  the  future, 
possessed  me,  as  it  still  possesses  youth,  to  the  exclusion 
of  everything  else. 

Morning  and  evening  I  found  myself  (what  long,  sweet 
days  they  were  !)  in  the  captain's  house,  in  the  beech  wood 
at  the  back  of  the  hill,  on  the  cliffs,  on  the  sea-kissed 
sands,  the  distilled  sweetness  of  the  world  walking  at  my 
side.  Were  the  violets  of  that  spring  larger  and  more 
fragrant  than  they  ever  have  been  since,  the  skies  bluer, 
the  days  balmier,  and  the  long  evenings  tremulous  with 
a  more  delicate  moonrise  ?  Oh  !  love  makes  its  own 
world,  and  I  suppose  made  my  world  for  me,  an  earth 
newly  fashioned,  and  skies  with  the  first  morning  and 
evening  glow  in  them. 

It  will  give  you  some  idea  of  the  seclusion  in  which  we 
lived  when  I  say  that  none  of  the  family  at  Heronford 
knew  anything,  or  appeared  to  know  anything,  regarding 
his  neighbours.  Certainly  as  far  as  I  know  they  had 
never  once  been  mentioned,  nor  had  my  lord  or  any  mem- 
ber of  his  household  ever  called  on  them.  This  fact  had 
never  troubled  the  captain,  nor,  so  far  as  I  remember,  had 
he  ever  remarked  upon  it,  but  I  felt  that  the  present  state 
of  affairs  could  not  long  continue.  My  own  position  was 
sufficiently  ambiguous  and  embarrassing,  and  my  long 
absences,  open  as  they  were,  could  not  fail  to  be  observed. 
So  far  as  my  lord  himself  was  concerned  these  might 
have  been  continued  indefinitely  without  exciting  either 


LORD  HERONFORD  MY  CONFIDANT   85 

notice  or  comment,  but  in  my  calculations  I  had  to  reckon 
with  Madam  Cassilis,  who  had  never  shown  me  any  sym- 
pathy or  kindness,  but  who  had  always  regarded  me  with 
suspicion  and  dislike  almost  openly  avowed. 

One  morning  Lord  Heronford  and  myself  were  seated 
over  our  accounts  (since  Mr.  Earnshaw's  visit  the  bal- 
ance had  been  deeply  weighted  upon  the  wrong  side),  my 
lord  with  his  brows  drawn,  and  myself  in  vain  endeavour- 
ing to  deduce  some  prospect  of  hope  from  the  inexorable 
figures.  The  windows  of  the  Book  Room  were  lying 
open,  the  air  was  sweet  and  warm,  and  the  martins  flew  in 
dips  and  circles  about  the  pleasance.  Presently  Madam 
Cassilis  came  in,  and  my  lord  rose  and  bowed  to  her,  for 
he  invariably  treated  her  with  the  same  punctilious  cour- 
tesy that  he  would  have  showed  a  stranger.  She  returned 
him  a  sweeping  courtesy,  though  with  some  disdain  in  it, 
that  being  the  way  she  always  affected  to  treat  him,  and 
came  over  to  the  table  where  I  was  still  seated  with  my 
pen  in  my  hand.  She  had  been,  as  I  have  said,  a  great 
beauty  in  her  youth,  and  her  figure  must  always  have 
been  very  striking,  but  her  cheeks  had  now  grown  thin, 
her  lips  hard,  and  her  eyes  had  lost  their  softness  and 
only  retained  their  fire.  I  own  there  was  a  time  when  I 
was  afraid  of  her,  and  I  still  preserved  something  of  my 
boyish  shrinking  in  her  presence,  for  she  treated  all  alike, 
and  her  swift,  incisive  speech  always  seemed  to  me  to 
cut  like  a  whip.  I  often  think  that  Nature  had  done 
her  a  great  wrong  in  not  making  her  a  man. 

"  I  am  very  busy,  Judith,"  said  my  lord,  resuming  his 
seat.  "  I  must  finish  these  accounts  this  afternoon." 

"  You  are  always  busy  when  I  have  anything  to  say. 


86  HERONFORD 

You  do  not  seem  to  get  much  comfort  from  your 
books." 

"  There  is  not  much  comfort  in  them.  They  speak 
a  very  hard  truth." 

"  Well,  that  is  one  comfort.     What  do  they  say  ? " 

"  That  I  am  a  poor  man." 

"  Do  they  say  it  is  your  own  fault  ?  " 

"  Not  in  so  many  words,  but  I  do  not  require  to  be 
reminded  of  that  fact.  I  do  not  forget  it." 

"  You  have  the  knack  of  remembering  unpleasant 
things,  but  you  don't  profit  by  the  experience.  If  I  were 
in  your  place " 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  you  were." 

"  I  would  burn  my  books,  look  after  my  affairs,  and 
— discharge  my  secretary." 

My  lord  looked  up  at  her  with  a  swift  look  and  a 
sudden  flush  upon  his  face.  I  could  very  well  see  that  for 
the  moment  he  was  so  astonished  that  he  did  not  quite 
know  what  answer  to  make.  Then  he  recovered  himself. 

"  I  suppose  I  have  given  you  the  right  to  say  these 
things.  I  have  indulged  you  so  long.  But  there  is  still  one 
matter  in  which  I  will  not  permit  you  to  interfere " 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  interfere." 

u  Then  we  need  not  continue  the  subject." 

This  was  the  way  in  which  these  altercations  always 
ended,  my  lord's  listless  coldness  and  apparent  apathy 
presenting  no  weak  point  for  attack,  but  on  this  occasion 
I  was  not  wrong  in  imagining  that  Madam  Cassilis  had 
found  a  new  weapon  which  she  intended  to  use. 

She  made  a  little  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  You  are  the  master  in  your  own  house,  but  at  least 


LORD  HERONFORD  MY  CONFIDANT   87 

it  is  your  duty  to  look  after  the  welfare  and  the  morals  of 
your  family.  I  am  glad  that  you  blush,  Mr.  Secretary. 
I  thought  you  had  ceased  to  blush,  but  I  am  not  quite  so 
blind  as  my  lord.  I  have  no  desire  to  interfere,  but  at 
least  the  amours  of  Lord  Heronford's  secretary  should  be 
conducted  with  some  outward  regard  to  decorum." 

"  Madam !  "  I  said,  rising  to  my  feet. 

"  Sit  down,"  my  lord  said  quietly,  and  almost,  as  I 
thought,  with  a  feeling  of  relief.  "  It  is  best  that  we 
should  hear  the  last  word  upon  this  subject ;  at  least  it 
can  do  no  harm." 

"  And  I  fear  'tis  too  late  to  do  very  much  good," 
madam  cried  in  her  high  imperious  way.  "  Ask  this 
gentleman  where  he  spent  yesterday  and  the  day  before 
and  every  day  for  the  last  week  past." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  put  that  question,"  he 
said  with  a  grave  smile.  "  I  know  already,  and  I  am 
sure  he  spent  them  more  pleasantly  than  either  you  or  I." 

I  do  not  know  whether  madam  or  myself  was  the 
more  astonished. 

"  Then  you  know  your  dependant's  low  intrigue  ? " 
she  cried ;  u  it  has  gone  on  with  your  permission  and 
authority  ?  I  was  ready  to  believe  anything,  but  I  could 
not  have  believed  that." 

"  Hardly  with  my  permission,  for  that  never  was  asked, 
and  scarcely  with  my  authority,  for  I  have  not  ventured 
to  interfere.  But " —  here  my  lord  smiled  gravely — "you 
must  admit  the  lady  does  credit  to  my  secretary's  taste." 

"  A  brazen  baggage  with  red  curls  and  a  milkmaid's 
cheeks,"  madam  cried  indignantly ;  "  a  saucy,  giggling 
dairymaid.  'Tis  the  talk  of  the  country." 


88  HERONFORD 

"  If  we  listen  to  the  talk  of  the  country  I  am  afraid  we 
must  begin  to  put  our  house  in  order  in  more  ways  than 
one.  My  dear  Judith,  do  not  let  us  forget  our  own  youth." 

"  You  are  pleased  to  insult  me,  my  lord." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  had  forgotten.  At  least  let  me  remem- 
ber mine.  My  secretary  is  still  young  enough  to  be  happy." 

"  And  old  enough  to  bring  discredit  on  the  family." 

"  Even  if  it  were  as  you  say  the  family  would  not 
suffer  much — it  would  not  add  the  burden  of  another 
straw.  Have  you  anything  more  to  say  ?  " 

"  Will  you  bring  her  home  to  Heronford  ?  Shall  I 
prepare  the  bride's  rooms  in  the  west  wing  and  send  in 
my  own  harpsichord  that  she  may  sing  you  ballads  ? 
I'm  told  she  sings  like  a  nightingale." 

"  I  have  sat  long  enough,"  I  cried  indignantly.  "  I 
have  listened  to  words " 

"  'Tis  well  to  follow  the  proverb  in  a  case  like  this," 
said  my  lord.  "  The  storm  is  over." 

"  At  any  rate  I  have  done  my  duty,  and  given  you 
warning.  I  know  it  has  fallen  upon  deaf  ears,  but  I 
thought  at  least  you  took  enough  interest  in  your  protege 
to  keep  him  from  making  a  fool  of  himself." 

With  that  she  flung  out  of  the  room  in  her  high 
tragedy  manner  and  left  my  lord  and  me  alone  together. 

There  is  no  speech  that  can  cut  and  sting  like  the 
speech  of  a  woman.  You  can  answer  a  man  with  a 
blow  or  a  word,  but  it  is  one  of  the  privileges  of  a  woman 
to  strike,  and  to  strike  where  it  hurts  most  and  wounds 
deepest  without  fear  of  retaliation  or  power  of  redress. 
When  Madam  Cassilis  was  speaking  I  felt  that  I  had  no 
power  to  reply,  and  while  every  word  she  spoke  added  to 


LORD  HERONFORD  MY  CONFIDANT   89 

my  indignation  and  anger,  I  felt  that  my  lord  was  right, 
and  that  the  wiser  course  had  been  to  say  nothing.  But 
the  insulting  bitterness  with  which  she  had  treated  me, 
the  cruel  wrong  she  had  done  my  dear  love,  gave  me 
now  the  courage  that  I  needed,  and  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  tell  my  lord  my  story  from  beginning  to  end.  But 
he,  so  soon  as  Madam  Cassilis  was  gone,  reached  over 
and  took  up  the  pen  that  he  had  laid  down. 

"  We  have  already  lost  too  much  time,"  he  said  in  his 
quiet  voice.  "  We  must  go  through  this  account  again, 
John." 

"  There  is  first  something  that  I  would  like  to  say  if 
you  will  hear  me." 

"  Upon  the  subject  of  which  I  have  just  heard  ?  " 

"  Yes,  upon  that  subject." 

"  Remember,  I  am  quite  satisfied.  Are  you  sure  you 
wish  to  speak  under  no  feeling  of  compulsion  or  re- 
straint ?  " 

My  dear  master  laid  down  his  pen,  leaned  his  arms 
upon  the  table,  and  looked  at  me  with  a  soft  and  kindly 
look  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  was  wrong,"  I  said,  "  not  to  speak  of  it  before.  I 
have  been  burning  to  tell  you,  and  if  you  will  listen  I 
will  tell  you  now." 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  it  right  to  tell  me,"  he  said, 
closing  the  book  that  was  lying  open  before  him.  "  You 
had  better  begin  at  the  beginning." 

I  do  not  well  remember  what  I  said  nor  how  I  said  it, 
but  I  am  sure  I  forgot  everything  but  my  subject  as  I 
went  on  in  my  narrative,  pouring  out  my  whole  heart  in 
the  abandonment  of  my  love.  I  drew  such  a  picture  of 


9o  HERONFORD 

my  sweet  mistress,  of  her  beauty,  her  courage,  her  inno- 
cence, as  only  the  painter  Love  can  draw.  I  described 
her  father  with  his  heroic  heart  and  honourable  wounds 
received  in  the  service  of  his  country ;  how  my  love  had 
first  sprung  to  life  and  grown  in  depth  and  fulness  every 
day,  till  now  it  meant  all  the  world  and  involved  all  my 
happiness.  I  omitted  nothing,  and  when  I  had  finished 
I  had  laid  open  my  whole  heart,  as  we  only  do  in  youth 
and  perhaps  can  only  do  once. 

As  I  ended  my  lord  drew  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Ah  !  if  a  man  were  always  young — oh  !  happy  three- 
and-twenty.  'Tis  a  pretty  story,  John — a  fairy  tale  with 
a  lilt  of  music  in  it,  but " 


"  Ah  !  my  lord,"  I  said,  «  that  is  it,  but " 

"  But  what  ?  " 

"Sometimes  my  love  seems  altogether  beyond  my 
reach ;  for  what  can  I  offer  ?  What  am  I  ?  Nothing 
but  the  poor  dependent  on  the  best  master  in  the  world. 
I  have  nothing ;  I  have  neither  means  nor  hope  of 
means,  birth " 

"  Who  spoke  of  your  birth  ?  "  he  asked  sharply. 

"  I  have  never  heard  it  spoken  of  but  by  yourself,  and 
then — then  I  learned  nothing.  But  I  cannot  remember 
the  time  when  I  have  not  been  reproached  with  it.  It 
used  to  hurt  me,  my  lord ;  it  used  to  cut  me  deeply,  and 
perhaps  it  still  does,  but  I  have  grown  more  reconciled 
to  what  I  could  not  help.  When  I  was  a  child  the  hints 
of  the  servants  used  to  send  me  to  my  bed  weeping,  and 
later " 

"  Later  ?  "  queried  my  lord. 

"  Later,  when  I  saw  the  footing  on  which  I  was  treated 


LORD  HERONFORD  MY  CONFIDANT   91 

by  the  family — I  mean  by  all  but  your  lordship — I  knew 
that  I  had  no  right  to  the  shelter  of  this  roof  but  by  your 
kindness." 

"  A  man  should  never  forget  his  mother,  sir.  To  doubt 
his  birth  is  to  dishonour  that  mother's  memory.  I  told 
you  once  I  knew  your  mother.  She  was  no  man's  mistress. 
She  was  a  bad  man's  wife  both  before  God  and  man." 

I  never  doubted  my  lord's  words — not  for  an  instant. 
Only  the  man  who  has  lived  for  years  under  the  shadow 
of  disgrace  and  brooded  upon  it  till  he  has  felt  it  nearly 
every  hour  of  his  life  with  poignant  shame ;  only  the  man 
who  has  seen  that  shadow  pass  away  and  feels  that  he  no 
longer  rests  under  it,  can  realise  what  I  felt  at  that 
moment.  I  could  not  keep  back  the  hot  blood  that 
flowed  to  my  face. 

"The  time  is  coming,"  my  lord  went  on,"  when  you 
will  hear  your  mother's  history  and  the  story  of  your 
birth.  But,  my  dear  lad,  'tis  a  sad  history,  and  for  one  man 
a  disgraceful  story.  There  are  grave  reasons  why  I  alone 
was  made  the  depository  of  that  history,  though  your — 
the  late  Lord  Heronford  was  aware  of  all  the  facts.  The 
same  reasons  which  compelled  me  to  silence  also  restrained 
him.  But  now  I  think  there  is  another  who  guesses  the 
secret,  and  it  must  be  told  perhaps  sooner  than  I  expected. 
Wait " — my  lord  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm — "  I  have 
something  more  to  say.  I  could  not  take  your  father's 
place  nor  could  I  ask  you  for  that  affection  which  a  son 
naturally  yields,  but  I  have  not  been  a  harsh  guardian, 
John,  and — and  I  think  you  have  some  regard  for  me." 

"There  is  no  man  in  the  world  I  love  and  respect  as 
I  love  and  respect  your  lordship." 


92  HERONFORD 

"  You  can  understand  that  only  the  strongest  reasons 
have  kept  me  silent — reasons  that  affect  a  man  who  was 
once  my  friend,  and  the  honour  of  a  great  and  noble 
house — but  no  reason  that  affects  your  mother  or  you. 
Your  birth  is  as  clear  and  honourable  as  my  own,  but  " 
— he  paused  and  looked  at  me  gravely — "  when  I  speak, 
when  the  world  hears  the  story,  the  man  to  whom  you 
owe  your  birth — if  he  were  alive — would  be  compelled 
to  suffer  the  punishment  of  his  crime.  He  would  have 
no  refuge  but  in  death." 

" 1  do  not  understand " 

"  The  time  has  not  yet  come  for  me  to  speak  more 
plainly.  It  is  a  law  we  cannot  alter — the  children  must 
suffer  for  the  transgressions  of  their  fathers,  and  I  have 
seen  the  same  law  working  in  this  house  and  in  myself. 
You  must  bear  a  little  longer,  my  dear  lad,  without 
questioning." 

I  saw  that  he  was  almost  overcome,  and  there  was  a 
look  in  his  eyes  I  did  not  understand — love  and  entreaty 
— but  the  memory  of  which  dwelt  with  me  long  after- 
wards. There  were  many  questions  upon  my  tongue, 
but  at  that  look  I  instantly  checked  them. 

"  I  have  implicit  faith  in  your  goodness,"  I  said  ;  "  I 
will  wait  patiently  till  you  think  it  time  to  speak." 

"That  is  well,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  upon  mine, 
and  letting  it  rest  there  for  some  time;  "  it  is  something 
that  we  are  able  to  trust  one  another.  Ah  !  a  great  wrong 
has  been  done  you.  A  great  wrong,  an  unpardonable  sin. 
It  was  not  a  little  thing  for  a  child  to  grow  up  among 
these  shadows  and  in  this  loneliness.  It  was  a  hard  lot 
for  a  child,  and  I  have  watched  how  you  bore  it." 


LORD  HERONFORD  MY  CONFIDANT   93 

"  I  have  always  felt  that  I  had  one  friend." 

"A  bitter,  disappointed  man,  John,  whose  heart  is 
buried  in  the  grave  of  the  past.  But  I  can  still  remember. 
It  was  because  I  saw  my  own  life — the  life  that  might 
have  been — in  this  new  life  of  yours  that  I  have  said  noth- 
ing. But  I  loved  you  too  well  altogether  to  close  my  eyes, 
and  " — my  lord  smiled  sadly — "  if  I  could  not  recall  the 
rapture  of  love,  at  least  I  could  hear  the  fluttering  of  his 
wings.  It  was  something  to  see  that  you  were  happy,  and 
I  felt  that  the  past  owed  you  some  recompense  that  the 
future  could  afford  to  pay.  I  suppose  you  are  happy  ?  " 

"  My  lord  !  " 

"  Ah  !  there  is  no  cloud  in  the  springtime  of  love.  She 
is  a  beautiful  girl,  John,  with  eyes  that  remind  me  of  a 
woman — a  good  woman — I  once  knew." 

"  I  know  whom  you  mean,"  I  cried.  "  I  have  seen 
the  resemblance  myself." 

Lord  Heronford  looked  at  me  in  amazement. 

"  She  I  mean  died  when  you  were  only  a  child,"  he 
said  slowly. 

"  Four  years  old,"  I  said.  "  My  mother  had  the  same 
eyes." 

I  always  wore  my  little  miniature  round  my  neck  like 
a  charm,  as  indeed  it  was,  and  almost  without  thinking 
what  I  did  I  opened  my  vest  and  placed  the  little  gold 
case  in  his  hand.  But  I  was  not  prepared  for  his  agita- 
tion. He  sat  gazing  at  it  in  perfect  silence  and  with  a 
stony  look,  and  then  rising  walked  to  the  window,  where 
he  stood  looking  at  it  with  his  back  to  me.  I  felt  that  it 
must  have  recalled  some  very  painful  memory;  when  he 
turned  round  his  lips  were  quite  white. 


94  HERONFORD 

"  I  remember  the  time  that  was  painted,"  he  said. 
"  Your  father  was  a  villain,  John,  though  he  was  my 
friend.  He  broke  her  heart." 

"  Do  not  let  us  speak  of  him,"  I  said. 

"  No,  it  is  better  that  we  should  not  speak  of  him. 
You  are  right ;  there  is  some  resemblance  here,  but  your 
sweetheart  is  not  so  beautiful  as  your  mother  was.  Good 
God  !  how  those  sweet  lips  used  to  laugh  !  And  she  died 
broken-hearted  at  two-and-twenty,  and  sacrificed  herself 
for  the  man  who  killed  her.  Sometimes  we  should  pity 
the  living  more  than  the  dead.  Well,  you  must  see  that 
you  do  not  walk  in  your  father's  footsteps." 

"  God  forbid  !  "  I  cried,  almost  with  a  feeling  of  horror. 

"  Amen  !  "  said  my  lord ;  "  we  both  pray  the  same 
prayer.  Take  back  your  relic  and  pray  that  the  world 
may  never  warp  and  poison  your  heart  as  it  has  poisoned 
his,  till  he  forgot  his  love,  his  honour,  and  his  name,  and 
found  himself  a  criminal  listening  for  years  for  the  foot- 
steps of  justice." 

Then  my  lord  gave  a  little  cry,  tottered  forward  a  step 
or  two,  and  fell  in  a  swoon  across  the  table. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

VICTORY    VICTRIX 

MY  lord's  illness  was  more  serious  than  we  at  first  sup- 
posed, and  I  think  he  never  regained  his  original  health 
in  its  entire  vigour.  The  doctor  who  had  come  flying  at 
the  first  imperative  summons  pronounced  that  he  was 
suffering  from  a  kind  of  stroke,  and  he  remained  uncon- 
scious till  the  middle  of  the  next  day,  when  his  mind 
came  back,  though  without  the  power  of  speech,  which 
only  returned  slowly  and  after  nearly  a  week.  During 
all  this  time  I  remained  constantly  at  his  bedside,  for  he 
seemed  unwilling  that  I  should  leave  the  room,  and  dis- 
tressed when  I  was  absent. 

I  had  a  little  bed  brought  into  my  lord's  dressing-room, 
where  I  used  to  lie  listening  to  him  tossing  uneasily,  and 
after  he  had  recovered  his  speech,  talking  with  a  broken 
and  passionate  utterance,  though  it  was  impossible  to  piece 
his  rambling  words  together,  or  draw  a  coherent  meaning 
from  them.  In  justice  to  myself  I  must  say  that  I  had 
no  desire  to  gather  my  lord's  secrets  from  his  unconscious 
wanderings,  and  I  as  resolutely  shut  my  ears  against  them, 
but  it  was  impossible  at  the  end  not  to  find  myself  driven 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  lived  and  was  living  under 
the  shadow  of  a  great  fear.  What  the  mainspring  or 
cause  of  this  terror  was  I  did  not  know,  for  always  at  this 
point  he  seemed  to  stop  aghast  and  returned  upon  the 
path  he  had  travelled,  repeating  the  same  phrases,  and 
dwelling  on  them  with  an  iteration  of  horror. 

95 


96  HERONFORD 

There  were  times  when  I  thought  he  would  like  to  have 
taken  me  into  his  confidence,  and  once  he  had  actually 
made  me  sit  down  beside  him,  but  it  was  evident  that  at 
the  last  moment  his  courage  failed  him.  As  he  grew 
stronger  (and  he  now  began  to  mend  rapidly)  this  desire 
seemed  to  pass  away,  though  his  dreams  were  still  broken 
and  his  sleep  disturbed.  But  it  was  a  very  great  relief 
to  myself  when  he  became  perfectly  convalescent  and  no 
longer  required  my  attendance,  and  he  was  able  to  resume 
his  old  habits  without  any  change  or  interruption. 

During  all  these  last  days  I  had  spent  in  this  way  with 
my  lord  he  had  never  once  returned  to  the  subject  of  our 
conversation,  though  I  afterwards  found  he  had  kept  the 
matter  in  his  mind  and  had  by  no  means  forgotten  it.  It 
was  after  he  had  recovered  so  far  as  to  be  able  to  sit  out  in 
the  sunshine  upon  the  terrace  that  he  returned  to  the  sub- 
ject. Sitting  here  under  the  south  wall  one  can  see  the 
vast  girdle  of  sand  that  clasps  the  waves  of  Carnforth  Bay 
in  its  silver  folds,  and  the  green  swell  of  the  hill  that  rises 
above  Carnforth  Cottage.  I  suppose  my  lord  had  seen  how 
my  eyes  had  followed  my  heart — that  they  could  not  out- 
run— beyond  the  cliffs  and  across  the  bay ;  he  had  been 
watching  me  as  he  sat  wrapped  in  a  great  cloak,  for  the  day 
though  bright  was  not  warm,  and  never  speaking  a  word. 
At  last  he  sighed,  and  at  that  moment  I  turned  to  him. 

"  It  has  grown  cold,"  I  said,  "  your  lordship  had 
better  go  indoors." 

"  No,  it  is  not  that.  I  have  been  thinking  what  Pisgah 
views  there  are  from  the  hills  of  youth  ;  the  vineyards  that 
need  no  husbandry,  the  cornlands  that  are  still  ripening 
to  the  harvest,  the  streams  flowing  with  milk  and  honey, 


VICTORY  VICTRIX  97 

the  life  that  never  withers  and  the  hearts  that  never  grow 
old.  Ah,  that  is  a  golden  prospect.  But  there  is  another. 
Ah,  there  is  another.  The  old  man  at  the  end  of  his 
journey  looks  back  upon  the  wilderness  he  has  travelled, 
the  long  track  of  desert  strewed  with  the  wrecks  of  faith 
and  love  and  the  promise  of  wasted  years — with  desires 
and  unfulfilled  ambition — with  memories  that  gather  like 
ghosts  and  ghosts  that  are  more  than  memories.  Of  all 
those  who  quitted  the  House  of  Bondage  how  many  were 
there  that  entered  the  Land  of  Promise,  John  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  there  were  reasons,"  I  answered  gravely. 

"  Still  it  seems  a  pity  they  should  have  come  so  far ;  it 
was  a  long  journey  for  nothing.  But  there  were  reasons 
— that  is  the  answer,  the  last  word,  and  Faith  is  silent 
with  the  question  on  her  lips.  Still,  you  did  not  tell  me 
the  name  of  your  sweetheart,  John  ?  " 

"Victory,  my  lord." 

"  Ah,  I  suppose  a  sailor's  curious  fancy,  but  a  very 
good  name  for  a  woman — a  beautiful  name  on  the  lips 
of  a  lover." 

"  A  beautiful  name  anywhere,"  I  cried.  "  She  was  born 
on  the  day  that  Rodney  chased  the  French  at  Finisterre, 
and  Captain  Blythe  fought  the  three-decker  Sanspareil. 
You  should  hear  him  tell  the  story,  my  lord.  You  would 
think  he  saw  every  incident  in  the  fight,  from  the  time 
they  grappled  with  the  enemy  till  they  ran  up  the  English 
colours  and  gave  three  cheers  for  the  fighting  captain." 

"  Yes,"  said  my  lord,  "  I  have  been  told  he  was  a  good 
sailor,  and  with  a  little  more  luck  might  have  been  an 
admiral.  I  am  satisfied  that  he  is  a  gentleman — a  little 
rough  but  still  a  gentleman.  You  thought  the  eye  of  the 


98  HERONFORD 

schoolmaster  was  not  on  you  when  you  were  playing 
truant,  and  spending  your  days  at  the  other  side  of  the 
bay  with  love  in  idleness.  You  were  mistaken,  my  dear 
lad.  It  was  my  duty  to  see  that  you  made  no  mistake, 
and  I  am  satisfied.  You  might  have  done  better,  but 
you  might  have  done  a  great  deal  worse." 

"  I  could  have  done  no  better,"  I  said,  "  my  love  is  the 
best  woman,  the  sweetest  and  tenderest,  and  she  loves 
me  altogether  for  myself." 

"  Ah,"  said  my  lord  gravely,  "  the  love  that  only  gives 
is  excellent,  but  the  love  that  receives  is  perfect.  I  sup- 
pose since  the  world  began  there  never  was  a  sweetheart 
yet  who  had  not  all  the  graces.  I  should  like  to  see 
your  sweetheart,  my  boy." 

"  Then  come  with  me  to  Carnforth,"  I  said.  "  I 
should  like  you  to  see  her  with  your  own  eyes." 

I  confess  that  I  had  no  hope  that  I  could  induce  my 
lord  to  take  this  visit,  his  reluctance  to  passing  beyond  his 
own  rooms,  and  the  strip  of  cliff  where  he  was  used  to  ex- 
ercise, being  excessive,  and  his  dislike  to  meeting  strangers 
amounting  to  a  passion.  But  I  did  not  altogether  despair, 
since  I  had  already  succeeded  so  far,  and  since  the  wish 
that  he  had  expressed  showed  that  he  had  no  ordinary  in- 
terest in  the  affair.  I  did  not  immediately  press  him,  but 
neither  did  I  let  the  matter  drop,  and  after  a  good  many 
efforts  I  ultimately  succeeded  in  inducing  him  to  name  a 
day  for  his  visit  to  Carnforth.  But  even  then  he  would 
have  temporised  and  endeavoured  to  excuse  himself  upon 
some  trivial  grounds,  and  I  am  quite  sure  he  regretted  his 
promise. 

When   I    announced    his   approaching   visit,   Captain 


VICTORY  VICTRIX  99 

Blythe  for  the  first  time  realised  that  there  were  more  in- 
terests in  the  world  than  he  imagined,  and  his  excitement 
increased  as  the  day  fixed  for  the  interview  approached. 
In  common  with  the  rest  of  the  neighbourhood  he  had 
formed  the  most  extraordinary  ideas  regarding  Lord 
Heronford's  character,  which  nothing  that  I  could  say 
shook  in  the  slightest,  and  a  visit  from  a  person  so  in- 
scrutable and  mysterious  was  a  visit  of  no  ordinary  oc- 
currence. At  first  he  was — as  his  phrase  ran — inclined 
to  cut  his  cable  and  run,  but  his  natural  courage  came  to 
his  aid,  and  he  began  to  prepare  for  the  interview  in  much 
the  same  way  and  spirit  as  he  would  have  prepared  for  a 
general  engagement  with  a  superior  force.  A  day  or  two 
before  he  had  laid  out  his  glorious  blue  coat  that  he  had 
worn  on  the  high  day  of  Porto  Rico,  and  paced  up  and 
down  his  garden  walk  as  he  would  have  paced  the  quarter- 
deck waiting  for  the  enemy  to  come  in  sight — a  little 
irascible  and  quick  of  temper  but  full  of  a  noble  courage. 
He  had  carefully  prepared  his  speech — double-shotted  his 
guns — and  given  directions  as  to  the  way  in  which  my 
lord  was  to  be  received  ;  but  as  it  turned  out  his  calcula- 
tions were  entirely  upset,  and  the  introduction  was  of  the 
most  informal  description. 

My  lord  and  myself  were  nearly  an  hour  early,  and 
taking  advantage  of  the  familiar  footing  on  which  I  stood 
with  the  household,  I  had  ushered  him  somewhat  un- 
ceremoniously into  the  captain's  sanctum.  It  was  a  fine, 
warm  day,  and  the  window  looking  out  on  the  garden  was 
thrown  open.  The  captain,  divested  of  his  coat,  which 
lay  beside  him,  was  seated  at  the  table,  stealing,  as  I  sus- 
pect, Dutch  courage  from  the  case-bottle  at  his  elbow, 


ioo  HERONFORD 

and  resting,  as  was  usual  with  him,  his  wooden  leg  upon 
a  chair.  As  we  came  in  he  hastily  drew  himself  bolt  up- 
right, his  face  very  red,  and  showing  unmistakable  signs 
of  consternation.  But  I  will  do  him  the  justice  to  say 
his  perturbation  passed  very  quickly,  and  when  he  had 
gained  his  feet  he  came  forward  dressed  as  he  was,  and 
held  out  his  hand  with  a  heroic  squareness  of  figure. 

"  I  fought  the  crew  of  a  French  privateer  in  my  night- 
shirt once,  my  lord." 

"  And  I  am  sure  you  gave  them  a  sound  drubbing  too." 

44 1  gave  them  as  warm  a  welcome  as  they  could  have 
wished,  but  'tis  not  the  way  I  like  to  go  into  action." 

"  We  will  imagine,"  says  my  lord,  taking  his  hand, "  that 
the  drums  have  beaten  to  quarters,  if  you  please,  and  the 
colours  are  flying,  but  I  hope  you  will  treat  me  as  a  friend." 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  treat  you  as  anything  else. 
It  is  allowable  to  hate  the  French,  though  I  allow  there 
are  fine  fellows  among  them,  but  I  have  done  with  fight- 
ing for  the  rest  of  my  life.  I  am  glad  to  see  your  lord- 
ship under  my  roof." 

There  was  never  a  finer  gentleman  in  the  world,  and 
though  his  language  smacked  of  the  salt  water  and  his 
headlong  life,  his  manner  was  altogether  perfect,  clothing 
him  with  his  natural  character — frank,  generous,  and  full 
of  fitting  self-respect  and  simple  dignity.  My  lord's 
manner,  though  altogether  different,  being  stately  and 
ceremonious,  was  not  more  admirable,  and  if  upon  occa- 
sion there  broke  forth  a  certain  rough  hilarity  in  the  cap- 
tain's conversation,  it  was  only  a  strong  breeze  that 
stirred  you  to  congenial  laughter.  You  never  for  a  mo- 
ment forgot  that  he  was  a  gentleman  in  that  full  and 


VICTORY  VICTRIX  101 

splendid  sense  which  implies  a  simple  heart,  a  noble  sense 
of  baseness,  a  generous  sympathy,  and  unfailing  loyalty 
to  truth. 

I  must  own  that  I  had  looked  forward  with  some  anxiety 
to  this  meeting  between  Lord  Heronford  and  the  captain, 
for  I  knew  how  fastidious  my  lord  always  was,  and  I  knew 
how  closely  the  result  might  affect  my  own  future.  But 
in  a  very  few  minutes  my  fears  were  laid  completely  at 
rest.  Without  the  least  thought  to  impress  his  visitor 
favourably,  or  draw  him  from  the  cold  reserve  he  generally 
maintained,  the  captain  won  my  lord's  sympathy  com- 
pletely, and  inspired  him  with  a  real  interest.  To  me 
who  knew  Lord  Heronford  intimately  that  would  not 
appear  an  easy  thing  to  do,  for  his  mind  had  been  so 
warped  and  narrowed  by  his  secluded  life  that  few  things 
touched  him  with  pleasure,  and  though  proud  beyond 
reason  he  had  become  as  shy  and  diffident  as  a  young  girl 
in  the  presence  of  strangers.  It  may  seem  a  curious  thing 
to  say  this  of  one  who  had  seen  so  much  of  the  great 
world  and  taken  so  large  a  part  in  its  follies  and  gaiety, 
but  there  were  in  my  lord  two  men  and  two  natures  so 
different  that  they  never  coalesced,  and  so  distinct  that 
they  were  the  antipodes  of  each  other.  For  the  most 
part  the  one  was  now  only  a  memory  ;  the  other  was  the 
kind,  retiring  master  with  whom  I  spent  my  life. 

In  a  very  short  time  my  lord  was  completely  at  his  ease; 
I  could  see  that  he  was  willing  to  draw  his  host  out,  which 
was  never  a  difficult  thing  to  do.  Once  you  carried  the 
captain  back  to  the  quarter-deck  he  forgot  everything  else; 
the  fighting  blood  of  the  old  seaman  mounted  to  his  brain, 
he  seemed  to  hear  the  thunder  of  the  broadsides,  the  ring- 


102  HERONFORD 

ing  cheer  of  boarders,  and  the  call  of  his  old  comrades 
from  their  places  of  renown.  He  never  wearied  in  relating 
that  splendid  history  of  thirty  years  with  its  fine,  heroic 
passages,  when  England  was  at  war  with  all  the  world  and 
kept  her  right  hand  firm  on  her  goodly  heritage,  the  sea. 
I  had  often  heard  his  story  myself,  but  it  was  new  to  my 
lord,  to  whom  it  came  like  the  salt,  quickening  breath  of 
ocean.  The  captain  had  forgotten  his  shirt  sleeves  and 
his  blue  coat  lying  beside  him  ;  he  had  forgotten  his  fore- 
bodings, everything  but  the  look  of  interest  on  my  lord's 
face  and  the  memories  that  had  been  awakened. 

"  By  heaven,  you  are  right,  my  Lord  Heron  ford.  Rod- 
ney is  the  finest  fellow  in  the  world — a  hero  every  inch 
of  him  from  keel  to  truck.  I  have  sailed  with  him  my- 
self, and  should  know  him  if  ever  man  knew  another. 
It  was  a  sight  worth  seeing  how  he  took  us  into  action 
with  the  wind  blowing  half  a  gale  from  the  south'ard — six- 
teen ships  of  the  line  and  half  the  men  down  with  the 
scurvy.  Upon  my  honour,  my  lord,  this  useless  timber 
leg  of  mine  gets  up  and  walks  when  I  think  of  the  way 
that  gallant  fellow  (God  bless  him  !)  sailed  his  ship  that 
Wednesday  morning,  and  came  up  on  the  starboard  side 
of  the  French  Admiral  with  a  rousing  English  cheer." 

"  It  must  have  been  a  fine  sight,"  says  my  lord. 

"There  never  was  such  another  in  the  world.  Here," 
cries  the  captain,  rising  to  his  feet  and  breaking  a  piece 
off  the  stem  of  his  churchwarden,  "  here  was  the  Terrible, 
Captain  Jennings — Daddy  Jennings  we  used  to  call  him 
till  he  was  drowned  off  the  Goodwins,  but  a  good  man 
and  a  fine  fellow  always — and  here  was  the  Hecate  com- 
ing up  with  her  foremast  gone  by  the  board." 


VICTORY  VICTRIX  103 

I  need  not  follow  the  gallant  old  gentleman  through  the 
details  of  this  glorious  day,  but  when  he  had  finished  the 
churchwarden  had  lost  its  stem,  and  the  fragments  laid 
upon  the  table  had  changed  their  position  a  hundred  times 
with  the  varying  fortunes  of  the  fight.  In  his  excitement 
he  had  risen  to  his  feet,  his  face  glowing,  his  blue  eyes 
gleaming  with  enthusiasm.  The  panorama  of  that  heroic 
sea-fight  lay  before  him ;  he  was  standing  again  on  his 
own  quarter-deck,  and  his  heart  was  filled  with  the  clam- 
orous call  of  battle.  At  such  times  he  needed  only  a  sym- 
pathetic listener,  and  having  now  no  doubt  that  he  had 
such  an  audience  in  my  lord  I  slipped  quietly  out  and  left 
them  alone  together.  I  was  anxious  that  my  lord  should 
not  be  restrained  by  my  presence  in  any  communication 
he  might  see  fit  to  make,  and  what,  perhaps,  was  more  to 
the  purpose,  I  had  seen  through  the  open  window  a  dainty 
figure  in  white  crossing  the  bridge  and  passing  up  the 
lane. 

When  I  came  out  Victory  was  standing  hesitating  at 
the  gate. 

"Jack!"  she  cried. 

I  came  down  through  the  laurels  and  held  out  both 
my  hands. 

"  Oh,  Jack  !  what  have  you  done  ?  " 

"  I  have  brought  my  lord  to  see  my  dear  sweetheart, 
as  I  promised.  That  is  all." 

"  I  saw  you  coming  across  the  sands.  I  knew  my 
father  did  not  expect  you  for  an  hour,  and  I  am  sure  he 
was " 

"  My  dear,"  I  said,  seeing  now  what  troubled  her, 
"  you  can  hear  the  thunder  of  the  guns  through  the  win- 


104  HERONFORD 

dow  yonder.  The  famous  blue  coat  is  nailed  to  the 
main-mast,  and  Lord  Heronford  is  watching  the  fight  off 
Finisterre.  They  have  forgotten  you  and  me." 

"  You  are  sure  Lord  Heronford  will  not  care  ?  " 

"  Not  the  very  least  in  the  world.  There  is  not  a 
gentleman  in  England  like  the  captain." 

"  I  am  sure  there  is  not,  and  for  that  reason — but  you 
do  not  understand." 

"  Only  a  woman  can  understand." 

"  Do  you  think " 

"  I  think  Lord  Heronford  will  say  there  is  no  rose 
in  the  garden  like  the  roses  on  your  lips,  and  that  John 
Cassilis  has  had  more  luck  than  he  deserves  in  this  world." 

"  He  may  not  see  with  your  foolish  eyes,  Jack." 

"  I  would  have  him  see  with  his  own.  Come  and 
hear  what  he  will  say,  Victory." 

I  did  not  then  think  how  formidable  this  meeting  must 
have  seemed  to  my  dear  love,  or  with  how  much  trepida- 
tion she  had  looked  forward  to  this  interview,  but  she 
placed  her  hand  in  mine  without  a  word,  and  we  went 
into  the  house  together. 

My  lord  sat  in  his  chair  in  the  attitude  in  which  I  had 
left  him,  and  the  captain,  who  had  not  yet  finished  his 
narrative,  had  just  swept  the  fragments  of  the  church- 
warden into  a  heap,  which  I  suppose  represented  the 
conclusion  of  the  engagement. 

"  'Twas  a  good  day's  work,"  the  captain  was  saying, 
"  and  deserved  the  thanks  of  Parliament — nine  ships  of 
the  line  brought  into  Plymouth  Sound " 

My  lord  rose  and  came  forward,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  I  need  not  ask  your  name,  my  dear,"  he  said  in  his 


VICTORY  VICTRIX  105 

grave,  friendly  way,  "  I  have  heard  it  so  often  that  we  are 
friends  already — if  you  will  permit  me  to  be  your  friend." 
From  that  moment  I  had  no  fears  regarding  the  result, 
if  at  any  time  I  had  doubted.  I  could  now  understand 
how  my  lord  had  been  so  great  a  favourite  in  his  younger 
days,  and  with  what  art  he  had  won  so  many  hearts  and 
gained  so  many  friends.  Though  I  knew  him  so  inti- 
mately, I  had  never  yet  seen  the  same  gentle  and  winning 
courtesy  in  his  manner,  the  same  gracious  openness  and 
absence  of  reserve.  It  was  done  without  an  effort ;  it  was 
quite  natural  and  spontaneous ;  and  if  it  surprised  me, 
who  knew  him  so  well,  it  overcame  my  dear  mistress,  who 
was  quite  unprepared  for  a  reception  so  frank  and  un- 
ceremonious. But,  indeed,  it  was  not  wonderful  after  all. 
Looking  back  across  that  long  stretch  of  time  and 
changing  fortunes,  after  many  happy  years,  I  can  still 
see  my  dear  love  bowing  before  my  lord  with  the  modest 
roses  on  her  cheeks,  clad  in  the  beauty  of  her  youth  and 
innocence,  a  picture  still  fresh  and  glowing.  What  heart 
could  have  failed  to  respond  to  that  magic  witchery  ? 
Who  would  not  have  yielded  at  the  first  summons  and  laid 
their  hearts  at  her  feet  ?  Certainly  my  lord  was  entirely 
captured  and  yielded  at  the  first  word. 


CHAPTER  IX 

TWO    COUNTRY    GENTLEMEN 

ONE  morning  Transome,  the  bailiff,  and  myself  rode 
over  to  Fareham  on  some  business  connected  with  the 
estate — I  think  chiefly  to  see  my  lord's  attorney  regard- 
ing a  mortgage,  as  to  which  some  difficulty  had  arisen. 
At  any  rate,  the  matter  was  one  of  some  importance  and 
required  immediate  attention,  and  I  was  anxious  that  it 
should  be  settled  without  delay,  for  Lord  Heronford  was 
the  worst  man  of  business  in  the  world,  and  now  gener- 
ally left  these  things  in  my  hands. 

When  I  got  to  Fareham  I  found  a  great  stir  of  people 
in  the  streets,  it  being  market  day,  and  Mr.  Stone,  the  at- 
torney, so  busy  that  it  was  some  time  before  we  had 
satisfactorily  finished  the  business  on  which  I  had  come, 
if  it  was  satisfactorily  finished,  as  to  which  my  memory 
is  not  clear.  At  any  rate,  I  had  a  long  interview  with  the 
little  man  in  a  back  office  overlooking  a  yard  that  was  full 
of  country  life,  and  no  doubt  lost  my  temper  over  the 
meaningless  forms  and  unending  delays  which  seem  in- 
cidental and  natural  to  our  English  law.  Mr.  Stone  was 
quite  an  honest  man  for  an  attorney — I  think  there  are 
more  rogues  in  that  profession  than  elsewhere — and  had 
managed  the  Heronford  business  so  long  as  I  remember. 
If  his  advice  had  been  followed  upon  many  occasions  my 
own  labours  would  have  been  less  difficult,  but  his  as- 
sistance was  most  frequently  sought  after  the  step  had 

1 06 


TWO  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN        107 

been  taken,  and  it  was  necessary  to  provide  for  the  con- 
sequences. 

He  had  been  good  enough  more  than  once  to  tell  me  in 
his  dry,  caustic  manner  that  it  was  to  be  regretted  I  had 
not  been  at  Lord  Heronford's  elbow  twenty  years  before, 
and  that  for  one  who  bore  the  name  of  Cassilis  I  had  some 
faint  ideas  of  business.  But  we  were  always  on  quite 
friendly  terms,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he  preferred  to  tran- 
sact matters  of  this  kind  with  me  to  dealing  with  my 
lord,  who  usually  flung  into  a  passion  and  ended  the  in- 
terview abruptly. 

Whatever  the  business  was  on  which  I  had  come  that 
was  at  length  settled,  and  he  was  gathering  up  the  papers. 
As  he  tied  them  he  looked  up  at  me  under  his  brows  as 
you  have  seen  an  attorney  do. 

"  I  have  always  found  you  a  sensible  man,  Mr.  Cas- 
silis. I  can  speak  plainly  with  you  ? " 

"  I  hope  I  have  merited  your  good  opinion,"  I  said. 
44 1  do  not  object  to  plain  speech." 

44  'Tis  the  short  way — the  safe  way.  What  I  have  to  say 
is  for  your  ears  alone  and  altogether  outside  our  business." 

I  prepared  myself  to  listen  to  him  patiently. 

44  I  do  not  know  how  intimately  you  are  acquainted 
with  Lord  Heronford's  affairs — I  mean  his  private  his- 
tory before  he  succeeded  to  the  title." 

"I  know  nothing,  Mr.  Stone,"  I  said  with  some  heat; 
"  I  desire  to  know  nothing." 

"  That  is  exactly  my  own  position,  sir ;  I  have  too 
many  concerns  already  to  be  troubled  much  by  curiosity, 
but " 

41  Is  it  necessary  to  pursue  the  subject  ? " 


io8  HERONFORD 

"  I  hope  the  necessity  may  never  arise.  I  accept  the 
assurance  that  you  know  nothing  and  have  heard  nothing 
— I  am  right  in  going  so  far  ? — that  would  be  likely  to 
cause  him  any  uneasiness  in  the  present  or  fear  in  the 
future.  I  am  now  speaking  with  more  freedom  than  I 
am  in  the  habit  of  using,  but  I  trust  you  implicitly,  and 
have  some  confidence  in  your  judgment.  The  stories 
which  travelled  to  Fareham  years  ago,  magnified  I  have 
no  doubt  by  rumour,  were  the  idle  tales  that  follow  a 
foolish  young  man  of  the  town,  intrigue,  debt,  drink, 
play — wasted  wealth  and  wasted  hours — but  nothing  dis- 
honourable, disgraceful,  or — criminal." 

"  I  cannot  discuss  the  matter,  sir,  for  it  is  impossible." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  am  afraid  we  must,  and  I  can  only  deal 
with  it  in  my  own  way.  I  remember  Lord  Heronford  in 
his  youth.  I  have  seen  few  handsomer  young  men,  with 
fine  high  spirits  and  an  unfailing  fund  of  gaiety,  but  he 
was  ridden  at  the  first  with  too  tight  a  curb,  and  perhaps 
there  was  something  in  the  blood — pardon  me,  I  have  the 
highest  regard  for  his  lordship.  I  must  own,  however, 
that  after  he  returned  to  Heronford  upon  the  death  of  his 
father,  I  was  surprised  beyond  measure  at  the  change  that 
had  taken  place  in  him.  It  was  not  the  same  man  ;  I 
should  not  have  recognised  him." 

"  Time  changes  most  men.  Even  we  do  not  grow 
younger." 

"  It  was  not  that — not  that.  Mr.  Cassilis,  besides 
yourself  there  is  no  stranger  living  who  has  the  honour  and 
welfare  of  Heronford  and  its  owner  as  much  at  heart  as 
myself.  Will  you  be  plain  with  me,  for  such  plainness  may 
assist  us  all — does  my  lord  live  in  fear  of  his  brother  ?  " 


TWO  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN        109 

I  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

"  Fear  !  "  I  cried. 

"  I  see,"  he  answered,  "  that  my  question  surprises 
you,  but  I  am  perfectly  serious.  Then  they  are  still  on 
terms  of  friendship  ?  " 

"  There  have  been  differences  between  them,"  I  said, 
"but  only  on  matters  perfectly  within  my  knowledge.  So 
far  as  I  know  my  lord  has  no  cause  for  fear." 

"I  hope  that  may  prove  to  be  the  case.  It  may  be  a 
mare's  nest,  but — I  am  not  sure." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  I  said,  with  a  foreboding 
that  I  would  not  have  expressed  for  the  world. 

"  There  is  no  man  living,"  he  went  on  quietly,  "  for 
whom  I  have  less  respect  than  for  Mr.  William  Cassilis. 
Boy  and  man  he,  at  least,  has  not  altered,  and  the  most 
that  I  can  say  for  him  is  that  he  deserves  the  character 
that  he  bears — a  bad  man,  Mr.  Cassilis,  a  vicious  man, 
an  unfeeling  and  heartless  man ;  a  man  who  would  will- 
ingly injure  his  best  friend." 

"  That  supposes  he  possesses  the  power." 

"  That  is  the  very  point.  I  have  no  ambition  to  pos- 
sess a  client  in  this  gentleman ;  I  have  no  desire  to  see 
him  in  my  office  or  in  my  house,  nor  to  bow  to  him  upon 
the  public  street.  Even  an  attorney  may  possess  some 
self-respect,  Mr.  Cassilis.  But  this  gentleman  was  good 
enough  to  visit  me  some  time  since  on  a  very  curious 
business." 

"  I  presume  he  was  quite  sober  ?  "  I  said  with  some 
scorn. 

"  Perfectly  sober,  and  which  is  more  to  the  point,  per- 
fectly serious.  He  was  sitting  in  that  chair,  Mr.  Cassilis, 


no  HERONFORD 

when  he  opened  his  business,  and  I  must  say  there  was  a 
fine  directness  in  the  way  in  which  he  dispensed  with 
preliminaries.  There  was  no  preface  or  apology  or  ex- 
pression of  regret.  A  bad  man,  sir;  a  very  bad  man." 

"  May  I  ask  what  was  his  business  ?  " 

"  Surely,  that  is  exactly  what  I  have  set  out  to  tell  you. 
It  is  monstrous,  incredible  ;  I  could  hardly  believe  my 
ears.  He  was  anxious  to  know  how  in  the  event  of  his 
brother,  my  lord,  having  committed  a  felony  he  would 
stand  in  relation  to  the  title  and  the  estates." 

"  A  felony  !  "  I  cried,  rising  to  my  feet  in  astonish- 
ment. "  You  are  not  serious  ?  " 

"  Oh,  perfectly  serious  !  I  have  used  almost  his  very 
words,  omitting  only  the  unnecessary  adjectives  and  inter- 
jections, without  which  no  speech  of  his  would  be  com- 
plete or  perfect." 

"  And  what  was  the  offence  with  which  he  charged 
Lord  Heronford  ?  " 

"  Men  in  my  profession  at  least  acquire  patience,  Mr. 
Cassilis,  but  perhaps  even  the  best  of  us  have  still  some- 
thing to  learn  to  attain  perfection.  I  may  have  been 
wanting  in  tact ;  I  may  have  shown  some  disgust  or  in- 
dignation, I  cannot  say,  but  though  I  exercised  all  the  art 
of  which  I  am  possessed,  I  could  not  draw  him  an  inch 
toward  committing  himself.  He  merely  wanted  an  an- 
swer to  his  question  and  refused  to  move  beyond  this." 

"You  answered  his  question  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  answered  his  question  — "  Mr.  Stone 
rubbed  his  hands — "  but  I  do  not  think  it  probable  he 
will  repeat  the  language  I  used  or  seek  another  interview 
with  me  for  some  time  to  come.  It  is  not  often  that  men 


TWO  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN        in 

of  tape  and  wax  have  the  pleasure  of  ordering  a  gentle- 
man out  of  their  house,  but  really  it  afforded  me  some 
satisfaction.  A  bad  man,  sir;  a  very  dangerous  man." 

"  A  sot  and  a  bully  !  "  I  cried  indignantly. 

"  Admitted  all  the  way,  but  such  persons  are  usually 
troublesome,  and  especially — well,  especially  when  they 
have  found,  or  imagine  they  have  found,  something  which 
may  turn  to  their  own  advantage.  Now  suppose " 

"Mr.  Stone,  I  will  suppose  nothing." 

"  Again  admitted,  but  that  is  evidently  not  his  brother's 
opinion.  Very  well.  I  have  hesitated  whether  I  should 
make  this  communication,  but  I  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  I  owe  a  clear  duty  to  Lord  Heron  ford  in  this 
matter,  and  that  the  best  way  I  could  discharge  this  duty 
was  to  warn  you.  As  yet  there  is  no  open  trouble,  nor, 
so  far  as  you  have  learned,  any  private  claim,  but  my  ex- 
perience tells  me  we  shall  hear  more  of  this.  The  ques- 
tion then  is,  what  steps  you  are  to  take  to  anticipate  him, 
if  any." 

"  I  am  so  confident  of  my  lord's  rectitude  and  honour 
that  I  have  no  fear  for  the  result,  but  I  own  I  have  not 
the  courage  to  tell  Lord  Heronford  the  story  you  have 
told  me.  I  have  eaten  his  bread ;  I  have  lived  in  his 
house  for  years,  and  I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes  the 
generous  kindness  with  which  he  has  treated  his  brother, 
and  born  with  his  follies  almost  beyond  endurance.  No 
other  man  in  the  world  would  have  done  it — not  one.  It 
is  incredible." 

"  That  is  merely  a  figure  of  speech — there  is  nothing 
incredible  in  human  nature.  But  you  have  now  been 
warned  and  placed  upon  your  guard.  As  a  member  of 


ii2  HERONFORD 

the  family,  so  to  speak,  I  know  that  you  are  concerned 
for  its  honour  and  welfare,  and  should  you  see  fit  to  con- 
sult me  hereafter  I  shall  be  very  willing  to  give  you  what 
advice  I  can.  I  admit  I  do  not  like  the  complexion  of 
affairs,  and  it  is  possible,  as  I  have  said,  we  have  not 
heard  the  end." 

I  had  taken  up  a  very  natural  position  during  this  in- 
terview, and  in  my  attitude  of  indignant  protest  Lgave 
expression  to  my  natural  feelings,  but  behind  and  beyond 
this  sentiment  of  anger  there  was  a  feeling  of  dismay, 
doubt,  and  foreboding  as  yet  too  vague  to  put  into  words. 
My  knowledge  of  Lord  Heronford's  character,  from  the 
time  I  had  first  known  him — his  pride,  that  keeps  most 
men  from  meanness  and  wrong,  his  scrupulous  honour 
and  veracity,  his  generous  heart,  cried  out  upon  such  a 
charge  as  incredible  and  impossible.  But  there  were  many 
things — trivial  incidents,  chance  and  vagrant  words,  that 
I  could  not  forget,  and  above  all  those  unconscious  con- 
fessions to  which  I  had  been  an  unwilling  listener,  and 
which  had  caused  me  so  much  pain.  I  had  been  driven 
to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  a  secret  in  my  lord's  life 
— a  secret  with  fear  and  terror  at  the  heart  of  it — but 
it  had  never  occurred  to  me,  nor  could  I  now  bring  my- 
self to  believe,  that  this  secret  was  of  such  a  nature  as  his 
brother  indicated  and  supposed.  It  was  likely,  I  had 
thought,  that  he  had  done  some  rash  and  unconsidered 
wrong,  upon  which  he  had  meditated  and  brooded  until 
his  nature,  naturally  sensitive,  had  been  changed  and 
warped,  and  his  conscience  had  been  charged  with  a  burden 
too  heavy  for  his  pride  and  self-regard  to  support.  But 
that  my  lord — my  kind,  proud  master — had  at  any  time 


TWO  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN        113 

been  guilty  of  a  crime  was  beyond  belief,  and  though  I 
was  staggered  and  bewildered  at  what  I  had  heard,  I  was 
yet  clear  and  confident. 

On  one  matter,  however,  I  had  expressed  my  real  feel- 
ing to  Mr.  Stone — whatever  the  consequences,  I  could 
not  bring  myself  to  disclose  to  my  lord  the  lawyer's  con- 
fidences. There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  exercise 
a  watchful  vigilance,  and  to  wait  upon  events  which  I  had 
a  dull  presentiment  were  about  to  follow.  Latterly,  Will 
Cassilis  had  spent  little  time  at  Heronford,  and  when  he 
appeared  there  it  was  with  a  sour,  discontented  look  and 
an  apparent  desire  to  keep  only  his  own  company,  which 
I  had  not  regretted.  For  the  most  part  he  had,  I  learned, 
been  staying  with  Mr.  Weston  at  Langston,  with  whom 
he  had  long  had  a  close  friendship,  and  who  was  in  every 
way  fitted  to  be  his  intimate  friend  and  congenial  com- 
panion, for  their  tastes  and  pursuits  were  identical.  His 
attitude  toward  myself  had  entirely  changed ;  whereas 
formerly  he  was  in  the  habit  of  treating  me  with  a  coarse 
and  contemptuous  pleasantry,  now  he  took  no  pains  to 
conceal  his  dislike  or  even  some  stronger  feeling,  and 
scarcely  spoke  to  me  when  we  met  by  accident.  That  I 
did  not  mind,  but  I  could  not  now  help  thinking  that  his 
change  toward  myself  was  in  some  way  connected  with 
the  wicked  design  he  was  harbouring.  However,  'tis  al- 
ways better  to  have  a  bad  man  for  an  enemy  than  for  a 
friend,  since  he  is  less  likely  to  prove  dangerous  at  arm's 
length,  and  I  was  quite  contented  that  he  should  treat 
me  in  this  way. 

When  I  left  Mr.  Stone's  office  I  returned  to  "  The 
Little  Green  Man  "  where  I  had  put  up  my  horse,  in- 


ii4  HERONFORD 

tending  to  dine  there,  as  I  usually  did  before  I  returned 
to  Heronford.  There  was  always  a  great  charm  for  me  in 
the  square  at  Fareham  upon  market  days,  in  the  activity, 
varied  life,  and  humours  of  that  miniature  world.  I  liked 
to  see  the  open  red  faces  puckered  into  cautious  shrewd- 
ness or  expanded  in  hilarity,  and  to  listen  to  the  babel  that 
rolled  and  swelled  over  the  price  of  pigs  or  the  points  of 
a  horse.  I  touched  a  life  that  was  for  the  most  part  re- 
mote and  distant  from  my  own,  and  felt  a  kindly  sympathy 
in  a  world  from  which  chance  and  circumstances  had 
shut  me  out. 

"  The  Little  Green  Man "  was  overflowing  when  I 
came  in,  and  I  hardly  ever  remember  when  that  benignant 
and  prosperous  person  had  more  guests  under  his  roof.  I 
found  a  place  at  the  table  with  some  difficulty  between 
two  neighbours  who  had  a  difference,  and  so  left  more 
room  between  them  than  would  otherwise  have  been  the 
case.  What  a  continual  uproar  of  boisterous,  side-shak- 
ing laughter  !  What  a  clatter  of  knives  and  forks,  and 
what  an  endless  succession  of  foaming  tankards,  the  pledge 
of  good  fellowship  and  loosener  of  tongues  !  I  own  I  like 
to  see  men  happy,  contented  and  prosperous,  and  blessed 
with  a  good  appetite,  and  I  enjoyed  the  spectacle  almost 
as  a  child  enjoys  a  lively  piece  of  acting  in  a  theatre. 

It  consequently  turned  out  that  the  afternoon  was 
growing  when  I  went  to  look  for  Transome,  whom  I 
found  very  comfortable  in  the  bar,  and  after  I  had  bidden 
him  see  my  horse  brought  round  I  went  to  the  door, 
where  I  stood  watching  the  little  busy  groups  now  slowly 
disappearing.  I  had  already  delayed  too  long  and  was 
anxious  to  return  home,  for  I  remembered  I  had  some 


TWO  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN        115 

business  to  which  it  was  necessary  I  should  attend.  Be- 
sides, Transome  was  in  that  condition  in  which  men  act 
with  a  judicial  slowness  of  movement,  and  I  was  myself 
about  to  walk  round  to  the  stables,  when  I  heard  a  sud- 
den and  startling  clatter  of  flying  hoofs  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  market  square.  Two  horsemen  came  thundering 
down  the  street — one  mounted  on  a  strong,  grey  horse, 
and  the  other  on  a  handsome  bay — and  both  pulled  up 
opposite  the  inn  door  with  a  reckless  promptitude.  I 
recognised  them  immediately  I  had  seen  them,  and  from 
the  way  that  Mr.  Cassilis  sat  in  his  saddle  I  could  see 
that  he  had  been  drinking.  He  flung  the  reins  on  his 
horse's  neck  and  slid  heavily  to  the  ground. 

"  Here,  you "  he  cried  to  me ;  "  come  and  take 

my  horse." 

I  made  no  answer,  but  stood  looking  at  him  quietly 
with  some  thought  of  returning  into  the  house,  for  I  had 
no  desire  for  a  public  scene  and  perhaps  a  public  quarrel, 
and  I  saw  that  he  was  quite  prepared  for  either. 

"  Do  you  hear  me,  you ?  "  and  he  repeated  the 

opprobrious  epithet.  "  I  mean  to  put  an  end  to  your  fine 
airs,  Mr.  Secretary  Cassilis." 

"  Try  the  horsewhip,  Will,"  said  Mr.  Weston,  who 
had  by  this  time  given  his  horse  to  the  ostler ;  "  try  the 
horsewhip,  and  put  a  little  movement  into  the  legs  of  his 
reverence.  There  is  nothing  like  the  horsewhip." 

"  I'll  take  my  own  way  to  make  him  dance,"  says  Will 
moodily.  "  Here,  Tom,  take  my  nag,  for  my  man  won't." 

He  let  go  the  bridle  and  came  up  the  steps  to  where  I 
was  standing,  his  face  inflamed  with  passion  and  his  eyes 
bloodshot.  I  felt  that  my  position  was  a  delicate  one,  for 


n6  HERONFORD 

he  was  determined  to  push  me  into  a  quarrel,  though  at 
the  same  time  I  knew  him  sufficiently  well  to  know  that 
he  would  stop  short  of  actual  violence,  for  bully  as  he 
was,  he  was  also  a  coward.  But  I  was  firm  that  if  I 
answered  him  at  all  it  would  be  with  that  soft  answer 
which  turns  away  wrath,  and  that  nothing  he  might  say 
would  lead  me  into  an  angry  altercation. 

He  came  up  close  to  me  with  his  riding-whip  held 
threateningly  in  his  hand. 

"  What  fool's  errand  brought  you  to  Fareham  ?  "  he  said. 

"  That  is  my  business,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  I  said,  looking 
at  him  quietly  and  squarely.  "  We  had  better  not  con- 
tinue this  conversation  at  present." 

"  Tilly  vally  !  "  he  cried  contemptuously.  u  You  are 
going  to  teach  me  manners  next,  damn  me,  and  give  me 
a  lesson  in  etiquette.  I  am  not  to  speak  to  his  lordship, 
George ! " 

"  Take  his  advice,"  said  Mr.  Weston.  "  Try  the 
other  way  about." 

"  I  have  had  enough  of  your  fine  words  and  high  looks, 
and  I  am  going  to  put  up  with  them  no  longer.  You 
think  you  are  snug  and  warm  and  comfortable.  But 
some  fine  morning  you  will  waken  up  and  find  you  have 
made  a  mistake.  Go  back  to  your  damned  books  and 
make  up  your  figures,  for  you  are  come  to  the  end  of 
your  rope." 

He  had  raised  his  voice  in  his  drunken  anger,  for  a  knot 
of  idlers  had  gathered  round  and  were  enjoying  the  quar- 
rel in  which  we  were  engaged,  though  I  am  sure  the 
sympathy  was  upon  my  side,  for  neither  Mr.  Weston 
nor  Will  Cassilis  was  a  great  favourite.  I  need  hardly 


TWO  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN        117 

say  that  I  did  not  enjoy  the  position  in  which  I  was 
placed,  and  I  was  now  more  than  pleased  to  see  my  nag 
being  brought  round. 

"We  will  not  quarrel,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  I  said.  "With 
your  permission  I  will  ride  home." 

"  You  have  my  permission  to  ride  to  the  devil." 
I  pushed  quietly  past  him  pleased  at  the  self-restraint 
I  had  exercised,  and  walked  leisurely  down  the  steps.  As 
I  passed  Mr.  Weston,  that  gentleman  wearing  a  con- 
temptuous smile,  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder  with  his 
heavy  riding-whip.  At  the  touch  my  blood  that  had  been 
flowing  with  a  cool  and  even  pulse  leapt  in  my  veins, 
and  the  anger  that  I  had  hitherto  kept  in  check  now  en- 
tirely overmastered  me.  I  halted  on  the  instant  and 
turned  to  face  him. 

"  A  word  with  you,  sir." 
"  What  have  you  to  say  to  me  ? "  I  asked. 
"  Mr.  Cassilis  is  not  quite  sober,  but  I  am." 
"  I  am  sorry  to  think  there  is  one  of  you  sober,"  I 
said. 

"  Hey  !  you  had  rather  I  was  drunk  too,  you " 

I  will  not  write  the  word  he  used,  but  I  had  already 
heard  it  twice  before  within  the  last  five  minutes.  Per- 
haps I  should  have  been  wiser  to  have  taken  no  notice  of 
the  insult,  but  those  considerations  which  had  before  re- 
strained me  were  not  now  so  pressing,  and  my  temper 
was  beyond  my  control.  I  only  saw  his  mocking  face 
and  heard  the  disgraceful  taunt,  and  almost  without  think- 
ing of  what  I  did  I  struck  him  with  my  closed  hand 
fairly  on  the  mouth.  The  blow  was  so  violent  that  he 
went  down  like  a  log  and  lay  at  my  feet  for  a  minute 


u8  HERONFORD 

without  stirring.  Then  he  gathered  himself  up  and  stood 
scowling  at  me,  but  the  fight  had  all  gone  out  of  him. 

"  If  you  ever  dare  to  address  me  again,"  I  cried,  "  I 
will  horsewhip  you  like  the  cur  you  are,  and  if  you  de- 
sire satisfaction  you  will  know  where  to  find  me.  Good- 
afternoon." 

I  turned  upon  my  heel  and  made  my  way  through  the 
crowd  of  spectators,  who  respectfully  made  a  path  for 
me,  and  who  seemed  disappointed  that  our  altercation 
had  come  to  a  termination  so  abrupt  and  ignominious. 
I  thought  I  knew  what  Mr.  Weston  had  desired  to  say, 
and  I  was  not  sorry  to  think  I  had  prevented  him  from 
dragging  into  this  vulgar  brawl  a  subject  which  beyond 
all  others  was  dear  and  sacred  to  me. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    TRAGEDY   ON    THE    CLIFFS 

I  HAD  made  up  my  mind  to  say  nothing  to  Lord 
Heronford  regarding  what  had  occurred  at  Fareham,  but 
by  some  means  it  came  to  his  knowledge — probably 
through  Transome — and  he  was  very  angry  and  indignant. 
I  am  not  sure  that  he  did  not  attach  some  blame  to  my- 
self, though  even  when  my  blood  had  got  time  to  cool  I 
was  at  a  loss  to  see  how  I  could  have  acted  otherwise 
than  I  had  done,  and  felt  that  under  the  circumstances  I 
had  exercised  some  moderation  and  restraint.  But  while 
he  only  hinted  his  displeasure  at  my  action,  he  declared 
that  he  would  no  longer  tolerate  his  brother's  conduct, 
and  repeated  with  great  bitterness  that  he  should  no 
longer  make  that  house  his  home. 

For  the  first  time  he  took  me  to  some  extent  into  his 
confidence,  and  showed  me  how  much  he  had  suffered  by 
his  brother's  conduct,  which  gave  no  sign  or  promise  of 
amendment.  Till  this  time  he  had  never  said  one  word  to 
me  upon  the  subject,  nor,  except  upon  the  two  occasions 
to  which  I  have  referred,  had  I  ever  heard  one  angry  or 
passionate  word  pass  between  them — at  least  upon  my 
lord's  part.  During  all  the  years  I  had  seen  them  to- 
gether I  had  never  heard  his  voice  raised  in  anger  or  even 
in  friendly  remonstrance,  but  whether  it  was  that  his  pa- 
tience had  now  been  tried  to  the  point  of  breaking,  or 
some  new  element  had  been  introduced  of  which  I  knew 

119 


120  HERONFORD 

nothing,  he  had  suddenly  become  very  hot  and  bitter.  In 
this  new  state  of  affairs  Madam  Cassilis  entirely  sided 
with  her  younger  brother.  I  could  not  remember  the 
time  when  she  had  not  inveighed  against  him  and  called 
upon  my  lord  to  prevent  the  disgrace  his  conduct  brought 
upon  the  house  of  Heronford,  and  now,  as  usual  when 
my  lord  at  length  set  down  his  foot,  she  went  over  to  the 
weaker  side  and  took  his  part  with  acrimonious  energy. 
There  were  some  frequent  and  painful  scenes  between 
herself  and  my  lord,  though  I  was  never  present  at  any 
of  them,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  she  frequently 
saw  Mr.  Will,  and  even  gave  him  a  lodging  in  the  house 
without  his  brother's  knowledge. 

My  own  position  was  by  no  means  an  enviable  one, 
for  she  showed  me  in  a  hundred  ways  that  she  attributed 
to  me  or  to  my  influence  the  rupture  which  had  taken 
place,  and  endeavoured  to  make  me  feel  that  I  was  now 
only  tolerated  as  a  dependant  because  I  made  myself  use- 
ful. I  am  sure  I  should  not  have  cared  for  that,  since  I 
was  too  long  accustomed  to  indifference  and  contemptuous 
treatment,  though  never  so  openly  displayed,  but  I  knew 
that  Lord  Heronford  was  pained  by  these  outbursts  and 
was  more  than  once  on  the  point  of  interfering.  Cer- 
tainly at  this  time  there  was  not  a  more  divided  or  un- 
happy household  in  the  world,  and,  but  for  the  hopes  I 
cherished  and  my  love  for  my  lord,  I  am  sure  I  could 
not  have  continued  to  live  there  longer. 

"  I  suppose  there  is  light  at  the  end  of  the  passage,"  my 
lord  would  say  wearily,  "  but  it  is  a  long  journey  in  the 
dark — altogether  in  the  dark.  I  have  heard  someone  say 
a  man's  worst  foes  are  those  who  sit  at  his  own  table  and 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      121 

lie  in  his  own  bosom.  Not  always — there  is  worse  than 
they " 

"  I  can  think  of  none  worse,"  I  said,  "  if  they  are 
foes,  but " 

"  But  there  is — worse — much  worse.  A  man  may  be 
his  own  deadly  enemy.  The  world  thinks  mine  an 
enviable  lot,  John  ?  " 

"  You  would  find  many  men  to  change  places  with 
you,  my  lord." 

"  And  if  they  knew  !  if  they  knew  !  You  see  how 
happy  I  am  and  how  much  there  is  to  make  me  happy. 
And  I  cannot  stir  hand  or  foot ;  I  am  bound  under  the 
wheel,  and  it  must  go  on  grinding  till — till  I  am  ground 
out.  My  father  believed  it  was  in  the  blood,  and  he  may 
have  been  right — bad  blood — tainted  blood,  seven  cen- 
turies old — a  noble  retrospect.  Does  a  man  make  his  own 
life,  or  has  it  already  been  made  for  him  before  he  comes 
into  the  world  at  all  ?  I  don't  know,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I 
know  this — one  false  step  leads  a  man  either  to  hell  or 
paradise — one  false  step  taken  in  the  folly  and  wildness 
of  unripe  youth.  I  hope  you  may  never  know  what  it 
is  to  live  under  the  shadow  of  sin  through  the  best  years 
of  your  manhood — sin — shame,  and — fear." 

"  My  lord,"  I  cried,  full  of  pity,  "  you  know  I  love 
you  like  a  son,  as  indeed  I  should,  for  you  have  been 
more  than  a  father  to  me.  Can  I  help  you  ? " 

"  There  is  no  one  can  help  me  ;  I  must  stand  alone — 
at  least,  not  yet.  Some  day  you  will  hear  everything, 
and,  John — listen  and  promise — the  world  must  not 
know — I  should  not  rest  in  my  grave  if  I  thought  the 
world  knew.  And  yet " 


122  HERONFORD 

"Will  you  tell  me  one  thing?"  I  said  with  sudden 
boldness ;  "I  do  not  ask  or  desire  to  know  more.  Has 
your  brother  guessed  or  learned  what  you  have  now 
hinted  at  ? " 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  at  me  with  a  white 
face.  "  You  have  some  reason  for  asking  that  question," 
he  said.  "  Tell  me  the  truth — tell  me  everything.  Has 
he  spoken  to  you  ?  " 

"  He  has  said  nothing  to  me,  but " 

"  To  whom  has  he  spoken  ?  I  can  read  it  in  your 
eyes — you  have  heard  everything." 

"  I  have  heard  nothing,"  I  said. 

"  Then  why  did  you  ask  the  question  ?  You  would 
not  ask  without  some  cause." 

"  It  is  only  that  he  now  seems  to  act  as  though  he  had 
some  claim  upon  you." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  my  lord  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  He  would 
not  spare  me  at  whatever  cost  to  myself,  or  to  the  honour 
of  Heronford.  I  think — I  hope,  he  does  not  know  or  I 
should  have  heard — a  brother's  help — a  brother's  sym- 
pathy. I  have  been  a  good  brother  to  him." 

"  You  have  been  at  least  an  indulgent  one." 

"  Could  I  be  otherwise  ?  What  am  I  that  I  should 
judge  him — I  who  was  the  rock,  and  am  now  only  the 
broken  wave  ?  But  he  would  not  spare  me." 

I  never  forgot  this  conversation,  not  so  much  for  what 
was  said,  though  in  that  there  was  enough  for  thought,  but 
for  my  lord's  manner,  which  showed  me  how  far  he  had 
drifted  into  the  shoals  of  despair  and  wretchedness.  In 
my  own  mind  two  things  were  now  clear  to  me  as  noonday 
— the  first  that  my  lord  had  something  to  conceal,  the 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      123 

revelation  of  which  menaced  him  with  disgrace  and  per- 
haps with  ruin  ;  the  second,  that  whatever  the  secret  might 
be  his  brother  held  the  clue  in  his  hands  and  was  bent 
upon  following  it  to  complete  discovery.  I  felt  that  I  had 
not  been  entirely  open  and  frank  in  the  conversation  which 
I  have  just  narrated,  but  I  felt  also  that  I  had  some  excuse. 
I  could  not  bring  myself  to  add  to  my  lord's  misery,  and 
I  saw  that  the  relation  of  what  I  had  learned  from  Mr. 
Stone  at  Fareham  could  do  little  good.  I  had,  however, 
no  doubt  that  a  catastrophe  was  impending,  vague  and 
indefinite  as  yet,  but  shaping  to  fulfilment. 

Nothing  worthy  of  remark  happened  for  some  weeks, 
and,  outwardly  at  least,  we  continued  to  lead  the  same 
dull  and  colourless  life,  unbroken  by  incident  and  undis- 
turbed by  change.  It  happened,  however,  during  this 
very  time  that  a  serious  affray,  in  which  two  lives  had 
been  lost,  had  broken  out  between  the  Revenue  officers 
and  the  lawless  free  traders  who  lived  round  Carnforth 
and  ran  their  cargoes  of  silk,  lace,  and  spirits  into  the 
sheltered  bay  on  the  other  side  of  the  headlands.  As  long 
as  I  remember  this  trade  had  been  carried  on,  and  the 
deep-sea  fishers  had  been  accustomed  to  land  their  com- 
modities with  impunity,  snapping  their  fingers  at  the 
law,  and  hardly  waiting  for  the  dark  to  come  ashore. 
We  had  drunk  their  French  brandy  ourselves,  and 
Madam  Cassilis  had  worn  their  laces  without  question. 
Now,  however,  there  was  a  cruiser  off  the  coast  and  a 
sloop  in  Carnforth  Bay,  and  the  Preventive  officers  were 
continually  on  the  alert  upon  the  cliffs. 

Captain  Blythe  had  taken  part  in  the  quarrel  with  his 
headlong  enthusiasm,  and  declared  the  coat  he  wore  and 


124  HERONFORD 

the  commission  he  carried  compelled  him  to  take  the 
King's  side  and  fight  his  enemies  ashore  and  afloat, 
whether  French,  Spanish,  or  English.  He  had  gained 
some  ill-will  by  the  attitude  he  had  taken  up,  though  he 
had  done  little  more  than  talk  and  bluster,  and  I  was  afraid 
that  some  attempt  at  retaliation  might  be  made  either  on 
himself  or  his  household.  This  fear  brought  me  very 
often  to  Carnforth,  and  I  frequently  stayed  there  till  late 
at  night,  walking  home  in  the  broad  moonlight,  and  gain- 
ing my  bedchamber  by  the  little  hidden  door  in  the  west 
wing.  I  do  not  think  anyone  in  Heronford,  except  per- 
haps Madam  Cassilis,  whose  vigilance  was  lynx-eyed, 
knew  anything  regarding  these  nocturnal  wanderings,  but 
even  she  made  no  remark  upon  them.  I  own  I  liked 
that  quiet  moonlight  walk  with  the  soft  shimmer  of  light 
in  the  throbbing  sea,  and  silent  cliffs,  and  undulating 
downs,  and  more  than  once  I  have  lain  down  on  the 
heath  under  the  silver  braid  of  stars  with  a  thousand 
hopes  and  dreams  flowing  through  my  heart. 

I  remember  that  fateful  night  very  well.  I  remember 
every  trivial  word  and  incident,  and  I  shall  never  forget 
them  while  I  remember  anything.  The  captain  and  my- 
self had  sat  talking  later  than  usual,  for  the  dog  had  been 
barking  viciously  during  the  evening,  and  we  had  thought 
we  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  under  the  window.  But 
whatever  it  might  have  been,  nothing  had  happened,  and 
about  midnight  I  had  set  out  on  my  way  home. 

What  a  night  that  was  !  The  great  orb  of  the  moon 
hung  over  the  tremulous  expanse  of  sea ;  the  vast  depths 
of  heaven  were  sown  with  stars ;  there  was  not  a  breath  of 
wind,  and  the  languid  waves  broke  one  by  one,  each  with 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      125 

a  separate  note,  on  the  shining  beach.  I  had  crossed  the 
sands  of  Carnforth  Bay,  taking  my  time  as  I  went,  and 
had  now  the  heather  and  soft  turf  that  carpeted  the  cliffs 
under  my  feet.  I  was  not  anxious  to  get  home — the 
beauty  of  the  scene  had  laid  hold  upon  me — and  after  a 
while  I  lay  down  in  the  shelter  of  a  great  boulder  with 
my  face  to  the  sea  and  the  soft  stream  of  silver  light  that 
rained  upon  the  water.  The  music  of  the  breaking  waves 
came  up  from  far  below,  and  now  and  then  from  some- 
where on  the  downs  I  heard  the  bleat  of  wandering  sheep. 

The  night  was  quite  warm,  and  I  sat  here  a  good 
while,  half  dreaming,  half  waking,  till  I  was  hardly  con- 
scious of  the  scene  before  me. 

Then  I  suddenly  became  quite  awake  and  sat  up  to 
listen,  for  I  had  distinctly  heard  the  sound  of  voices  in 
the  soft,  still  air.  I  was  unwilling  to  expose  myself  to 
view,  for  the  free  traders  had  a  bad  reputation ;  and  lift- 
ing myself  cautiously  till  I  had  a  clear  view  of  the  stretch 
of  cliffs,  I  saw  the  outlines  of  the  speakers  about  a  hun- 
dred yards  away.  When  I  first  saw  them  they  were 
standing  apart,  but  it  was  altogether  impossible  for  me 
either  to  hear  the  words  which  were  spoken  or  to  recog- 
nise the  forms.  But  I  was  sure  of  this — the  voices  that 
I  had  first  heard  were  voices  raised  in  anger.  The  place 
where  they  stood  was  the  highest  point  of  the  cliffs,  and 
near  the  spot  where  the  Grey  Man's  Path,  of  which  I  have 
already  spoken,  begins  its  tortuous  and  terrible  descent. 

They  were  standing  quite  close  to  the  verge,  and  I  was 
sure  that  from  where  they  stood  it  was  impossible  for  them 
to  discover  myself.  I  never  for  a  moment  doubted  they 
were  either  Revenue  officers  or  Carnforth  men,  but  in 


126  HERONFORD 

either  case  I  was  unwilling  that  I  should  be  discovered 
here  at  this  hour  of  the  night ;  and  I  was  about  to  return 
to  the  shelter  of  the  boulder  when  the  terrible  tragedy 
occurred. 

It  seemed  to  me  almost  to  take  place  in  a  moment — a 
moment  of  incredulous  terror.  They  were  still  standing 
apart  when  I  heard  a  voice  raised  with  a  throb  of  anger 
in  it,  and  one  of  the  two  men  stepped  forward  with  his 
arm  raised  as  if  to  strike  a  blow.  Whether  he  struck  I 
could  not  tell — upon  my  solemn  oath  I  could  not  tell — 
and  at  the  same  instant  the  other  stepped  back  as  if  to 
avoid  the  attack.  There  rose  into  the  night  a  great  ring- 
ing scream  of  fear  and  agony,  and  then — merciful  God  ! 
the  man  with  his  arm  still  raised  stood  alone  upon  the  cliffs. 

It  was  all  over;  the  tragedy  was  completed.  I  had 
seen  it  all,  and  yet  failed  to  realise  it.  I  leaped  to  my 
feet  unable  to  move  or  speak,  and  while  I  still  stood  fixed 
and  fascinated,  the  murderer — if,  indeed,  he  was  a  mur- 
derer— stepped  to  the  extreme  edge  of  the  cliff.  Then 
he  threw  up  both  his  arms,  and  \vith  a  cry — rather  with 
a  scream  which  I  shall  never  forget — he  set  off  running, 
and  was  almost  immediately  lost  to  my  view. 

It  hardly  occurred  to  me  till  afterwards  that  I  should 
have  followed  the  fugitive,  but  for  the  moment  I  was  so 
thrilled  with  horror  and  chilled  by  a  blind  unreasoning 
fear,  due,  I  suppose,  as  much  to  the  suddenness  of  the 
episode,  as  to  the  darkness,  silence,  and  solitude,  that  I 
remained  standing  motionless  for  a  considerable  time. 
You  can  understand  that,  though  you  may  never  have 
experienced  my  feelings.  It  is  not  a  little  matter  to  be 
awakened  in  an  instant  out  of  a  pleasant  dream  and  find 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      127 

yourself  standing  face  to  face  with  a  tragedy,  grim  with 
the  issues  of  life  and  death,  and  a  cry  of  agony  ringing 
in  your  ears. 

At  least  I  found  it  so,  and  then  hardly  knowing  what  I 
did,  but  with  the  horror  of  it  still  clinging  to  me,  I  ran 
to  the  verge  of  the  cliff  and  gazed  down  that  dark  and 
yawning  gulf.  I  held  my  breath  to  listen  as  with  a  sort 
of  instinct ;  I  could  hear  nothing  but  the  murmur  of  the 
sea  and  the  occasional  cry  of  the  distant  sheep.  Then 
hardly  trusting  my  voice  I  called  aloud — once,  twice — 
and  listened  with  no  hope  of  an  answer.  A  minute 
passed  filled  with  the  beating  of  my  heart  as  with  the 
tolling  of  a  minster  bell.  Surely  I  heard  something,  a 
cry,  a  moan,  or  was  it  only  fancy  ?  And  then  I  called 
again,  but  only  the  sea  throbbing  in  the  silence  answered 
me,  and  I  knew  that  I  had  heard  nothing. 

There  was  a  fascination  in  the  spot  and  I  could  hardly 
drag  myself  away,  halting,  as  I  went,  to  listen,  and  turn- 
ing on  my  steps  at  every  sound.  I  knew  that  I  could  do 
nothing ;  I  felt  that  I  could  lend  no  help ;  and  yet  I  was 
unwilling  to  quit  the  scene.  Indeed,  the  wild  thought 
occurred  to  me  to  make  my  way  down  the  cliff,  but  I 
knew  how  arduous  and  dangerous  that  was  even  in  the  day- 
light, and  at  last  I  set  out  almost  running  for  Heronford. 

I  found  the  gate  in  the  sea  wall  open,  though  it  was 
usually  locked,  and  closing  it  after  me,  I  came  at  last  to 
the  winter  garden  and  so  reached  the  angle  of  the  west 
wing.  It  had  now  grown  much  darker,  and  I  was  about 
to  push  open  my  little  door,  when  I  heard  the  sound  of 
footsteps,  and  saw  a  man  carrying  a  lantern,  and  running 
at  some  speed,  but  stealthily,  in  the  direction  where  I 


128  HERONFORD 

stood.  I  drew  further  into  the  shadow  of  the  door  till 
he  came  close  to  where  I  was,  and  then  I  leaped  out. 

"  Who  is  that  ?  "  I  cried,  for  I  could  not  see  his  face. 

He  stopped  short  at  the  sound  of  my  voice  as  though 
overcome  by  surprise,  but  made  no.  answer. 

I  again  repeated  my  question,  but  hardly  had  I  spoken 
than  I  saw  it  was  my  lord,  bareheaded  and  with  a  heavy 
cloak  about  his  shoulders. 

II  My  lord  !  "  I  cried  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I.     My  God  !     You  have  heard  it  too." 

"  Heard  what  ?  " 

"  That  awful  cry.  I  cannot  get  it  out  of  my  ears.  It 
has  been  ringing  in  them  for  half  an  hour.  It  was  my 
brother's  voice,  John." 

"  I  hope  to  God  it  was  not." 

"  There  was  murder  in  the  voice.  You  have  heard  it 
too  ? " 

"  My  lord,  I  saw  it  all." 

The  lantern  fell  from  his  hand  with  a  crash  to  the 
ground;  he  staggered  forward  and  caught  me  by  the 
shoulder.  Never  in  my  life  had  I  seen  him  so  agitated. 
His  breath  came  in  deep,  swift  respirations  and  his  hands 
were  trembling. 

"  You  !  what  did  you  see  ?     Tell  me  what  you  saw." 

I  told  him  briefly  all  that  I  had  witnessed  and  as 
clearly  as  my  own  agitation  would  permit.  When  I  had 
finished  he  dropped  his  hand  from  my  shoulder. 

"  Then  you  could  not  see  the  faces  ?  You  did  not 
recognise  the  voice  ?  " 

"  I  could  see  nothing  more  than  I  have  told  you.  I 
am  sorry  that  I  could  not  now." 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      129 

"  He  cannot  hide  his  crime — it  was  an  awful  deed. 
But  perhaps  he  did  not  strike ;  perhaps  he  did  not  even 
intend  to  strike.  You  could  not  see  that." 

"  I  think  he  did  not,  but  I  am  not  sure." 

"  God  knows  that,  but  it  was  a  sudden,  awful  death. 
And  he  was  a  bad  man,  John  ;  my  brother  was  a  wicked 
man,  cut  off  in  his  sins.  But  he  was  my  brother." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  was  his  voice  I  heard,"  I  said. 

"  I  know  it  was  ;  I  heard  -it  here ;  I  shall  never  forget 
it.  He  had  wronged  and  tortured  some  poor  soul  past 
endurance  and — but  he  was  my  brother.  We  must  find 
his  body,  John.  There  is  no  doubt — none." 

"  If  you  think  that  I  will  take  the  servants,"  I  said ; 
"you  must  not  come." 

"  I  could  not  rest — though  he  did  not  love  me  he  is 
calling  for  me  now.  Listen  !  Do  you  hear  him  calling  ? " 

"  My  lord,  this  will  not  do,"  I  said  firmly.  "  Mr. 
William  Cassilis  is  still  a  living  man  and " 

"  I  am  a  dreamer  dreaming  dreams.  Come  with  me 
and  you  will  see." 

Before  I  could  answer  him  he  set  out  almost  running 
down  the  path,  and  I,  filled  with  amazement,  for  I  had 
not  yet  had  time  to  think,  followed  him  closely.  If  I 
thought  at  all  I  believed  he  was  the  victim  of  a  terrible  hal- 
lucination, for  I  could  not  believe  that  at  this  distance  he 
had  heard  the  cry  that  had  so  thrilled  myself.  And  yet 
it  was,  after  all,  possible  that  the  voice  was  that  of  Wil- 
liam Cassilis — nay,  the  more  I  considered  it  there  seemed 
something  familiar  in  the  sound,  until  I  brought  my 
mind  to  believe  that  I  had  recognised  the  tone. 

As  we  went  my  lord  never  spoke  a  word  to  me,  but  I 


i3o  HERONFORD 

could  hear  him  breathing  heavily  in  front  of  me,  pausing 
now  and  again  as  though  to  listen,  and  his  face  as  white 
as  the  face  of  death.  But  I  asked  myself,  What  could 
we  do  ?  What  assistance  could  we  render  ?  What  dis- 
covery even  could  we  make  ?  Even  at  dead  water  at 
this  point  it  was  impossible  to  reach  the  foot  of  the  cliffs 
but  by  a  boat  or  by  the  Grey  Man's  Path,  and  I  never 
for  a  moment  thought  that  either  my  lord  or  myself 
would  essay  this  perilous  route  at  this  hour  that  was 
darkening  toward  the  dawn. 

I  could  not  tell  what  he  had  in  his  mind,  but  he  went 
on  silently  and  quickly,  and  at  length  stopped  on  the  very 
spot  where  the  fatal  quarrel  had  taken  place.  He  turned 
round  and  waited  till  I  came  up,  for  I  had  fallen  a  little 
behind. 

"  It  was  here,  I  think."  He  spoke  in  a  voice  that  was 
little  more  than  a  raised  whisper. 

"  Just  where  you  stand,"  I  answered.  "  He  slipped 
back  with  his  arms  raised  and  fell  over  there." 

He  shivered  a  little,  and  then  stepped  forward  till  his 
feet  rested  on  the  dizzy  brink,  and  I  involuntarily  moved 
forward  to  catch  him.  But  he  waved  me  back  with  his 
hand. 

"  Listen  !     Can  you  hear  anything  ?  " 

We  both  stood  perfectly  still. 

Then  I  answered,  "  Nothing." 

"  Nothing,  and  I  can  see  nothing,  but  he  is  lying  be- 
low there.  I  must  go  down  to  him.  The  path  leads 
past  this  very  spot  where  we  are  standing.  I  remember 
it  when — when  we  were  boys." 

"  My   lord,"  I  said,  now  thoroughly  alarmed,  "  you 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      131 

must  and  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  It  is  madness  to 
think  of  it.  Before  you  had  gone  a  dozen  yards  you 
would  have  made  your  last  step.  I  know  the  path  and  I 
know  its  danger." 

11  You  do  not  understand.     I  care  nothing  for  danger." 

"  I  understand  this,  that  I  will  not  let  you  go.  My 
love  gives  me  the  right  to  prevent  you." 

"  There  is  nothing  will  prevent  me.  I  should  never 
rest  again." 

I  saw  that  he  was  terribly  in  earnest — so  firmly  fixed 
and  resolved  in  his  purpose  that  it  would  be  impossible 
for  me  either  to  restrain  him  or  dissuade  him  from  his 
mad  attempt,  and  almost  without  thinking  what  I  did  I 
cried  out  passionately  — 

"  If  anyone  goes  I  shall  go.  I  am  sure  that  I  could 
do  it,  but  for  you  it  is  certain  death — that  is,  if  either  of 
us  need  go,  but " 

"  I  must  find  him,"  he  wailed.  "  He  must  not  lie 
bruised  and  mangled.  I  should  go  mad  to  think  of  it." 

"  Then  you  must  wait  here  till  I  return.  If  the  body 
can  be  found  I  shall  find  it." 

He  sat  down  upon  a  boulder  and  wiped  his  white  face 
with  a  handkerchief. 

"You  will  not  be  long,  John.  Perhaps — he  may  still 
be  alive." 

"  I  shall  not  be  long,"  I  answered.  "  Do  not  move 
till  I  return." 

In  the  long  and  varied  history  of  my  life  I  can  remember 
no  scene  like  this.  It  was  only  when  I  had  set  my  feet  on 
that  narrow,  broken  path  that  ran  zigzag  along  the  black 
and  frowning  cliffs,  and  looked  down  into  the  depths  below, 


i32  HERONFORD 

that  I  realised  fully  the  perils  of  my  task.  The  moon  had 
disappeared  and  the  stars  were  dying  one  by  one,  while 
the  cold  morning  wind  had  risen  and  the  first  faint  silver 
streak  of  dawn  was  lightening  in  the  east.  Below  me  was 
the  hollow  roar  of  the  sea  breaking  on  the  jagged  rocks ; 
round  me  rose  the  startled  sea-mews  fluttering  with  angry 
wings.  Here  and  there  I  seemed  to  hang  on  the  air  with- 
out foothold  or  room  to  stir,  the  path  broken  and  terminat- 
ing at  my  feet.  Once  or  twice  looking  down  into  that 
black  depth  I  grew  so  giddy  that  the  cliff  seemed  to  sway 
with  me,  and  I  clung  with  a  cold,  sickening  terror  at  my 
heart. 

But  this  was  hardly  the  worst — there  were  other  terrors 
fiercer  and  more  turbulent  than  these,  terrors  begotten  in 
my  own  mind  and  created,  as  I  now  know,  by  my  own 
imagination.  The  hundred  legends  of  my  youth  took 
form  and  shape,  and  there,  on  that  awful  path,  the  ghosts 
of  Heronford  rose  mocking  round  me  with  their  eyes  and 
voices.  The  two  brothers  of  that  fratricidal  story  whis- 
pered the  tale  of  that  old  crime  in  my  ears,  and  whispered 
— it  was  too  terrible  for  thought — that  the  crime  was  alive 
again  under  the  stars,  and  cried  blood-guiltily  from  the 
earth.  And  even  at  that  moment — I  do  not  ask  for  your 
belief — I  heard  the  clink-clank  of  a  horse's  hoofs  ringing 
on  the  rock  behind  me — clink-clank — I  could  hear  the 
steps  behind  me  and  the  stones  go  rolling  into  the  chasm 
below  as  the  iron  struck  them.  I  could  have  cried  out  I 
was  so  full  of  panic,  and  I  would  have  given  the  world 
to  turn  my  head  but  dared  not. 

I  shall  never  know  how  that  journey  was  accomplished, 
but  at  length  I  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs,  where  there 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      133 

was  a  narrow  fringe  of  rock  and  sand  covered  by  tangled 
sea-weed,  and  wiped  the  cold  perspiration  from  my  fore- 
head. I  was  for  the  moment  too  weak  to  prosecute  my 
search,  and  sat  down  for  a  while  to  recover.  The  dawn 
was  growing  clearer  and  broader,  and  I  could  now  see 
the  line  of  coast  lifting  through  the  greyness  of  the  morn- 
ing. It  was  very  cold — that  early  cold  that  takes  away 
one's  courage — and  I  felt  very  miserable  and  depressed. 
But  I  knew  with  what  anxiety  my  lord  was  waiting  my 
return — at  that  moment  I  felt  a  traitor  toward  him — and 
I  rose  up  to  pursue  my  search. 

I  walked  backward  and  forward  a  dozen  times;  I 
searched  everywhere  but  I  could  find  nothing.  Certainly 
the  body  of  the  man  had  not  fallen  to  the  bottom  ;  of  that 
there  was  not  the  least  doubt.  It  was  possible  that  it 
might  have  been  caught  in  its  descent  by  some  projecting 
crag,  but  I  did  not  think  it  likely,  and  looking  up  that 
frowning  bastion  I  could  see  nothing  that  would  lead  me 
to  that  couclusion.  Yet,  unless  I  had  been  dreaming — 
dreaming  awake  and  with  my  eyes  open — that  must  have 
happened  or  I  should  have  found  him  here  at  my  feet. 
It  was  altogether  inexplicable ;  nothing  suggested  itself 
that  would  in  any  way  account  for  his  disappearance, 
and  I  could  not  think  what  I  should  say  to  my  lord  when 
I  ascended. 

All  the  time  that  I  climbed  up  the  path  on  my  way 
back  my  thoughts  were  busy  rather  with  the  living  than 
with  the  dead  ;  I  was  beset  by  a  host  of  suggestions  and 
suspicions  that  made  my  master  and  benefactor  the 
centre  of  a  tragedy  as  terrible  as  any  in  the  legendary 
annals  of  his  house. 


134  HERONFORD 

My  lord  had  heard  my  footsteps  as  I  ascended  and 
was  waiting  for  me  at  the  head  of  the  path. 

"  You  have  found  him  ?  "  he  cried.     "  He  is  dead  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  I  answered.  "  There  is  no  trace 
of  the  body  anywhere.  I  have  searched  everywhere  and 
could  find  nothing." 

"  You  dare  not  trifle  with  me.  You  think  I  cannot 
bear  to  hear  the  truth.  You  were  accustomed  to  speak 
the  truth." 

" 1  am  speaking  the  sober  truth.  I  cannot  understand 
it,  but  there  is  not  the  slightest  sign.  I  must  have  been 
dreaming." 

"  Good  God  !  What  a  dream  !  I  tell  you,  you  have 
not  searched.  I  can  see  him  lying  there  with  his  up- 
braiding eyes  wide  open  and  his  blood  crying  like  the 
blood — I  will  go  myself." 

"  Not  one  step,"  I  cried,  placing  myself  before  him. 
"  If  you  are  not  satisfied  with  what  I  have  done — and  I 
have  done  my  best — we  will  bring  the  boat  round  and  you 
can  satisfy  yourself.  And,  indeed,  my  lord,  we  have 
more  than  that  to  think  of — we  must  consider " 

"  What  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  Who  could  have  done  this  dreadful  deed,  and  what 
was  the  cause  of  its  doing." 

"  Ah  !  What,  indeed  ?  My  heart  has  gone  out  of 
me.  John,  we  will  go  home." 

He  suffered  me  to  lead  him  home  without  showing  any 
trace  of  that  strong,  insurgent  excitement  which  had 
possessed  him  so  short  a  time  before,  and  appeared  alto- 
gether listless  and  apathetic.  He  had  changed  so  far  in 
the  course  of  an  hour  or  two  that  instead  of  desiring  to 


THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  CLIFFS      135 

prosecute  his  search  he  showed  the  utmost  reluctance  to 
proceeding  further,  and  it  was  only  by  a  supreme  effort 
that  he  at  length  consented  to  resume  it. 

But  though  we  continued  our  labour  the  whole  day  we 
made  no  discovery ;  our  search  was  entirely  unproductive 
of  results ;  and  the  matter  appeared  to  me  to  become 
more  and  more  deeply  enshrouded  in  mystery. 

In  another  direction  also  our  enquiries  were  equally 
without  result— of  William  Cassilis  we  could  learn  noth- 
ing. He  had  completely  disappeared.  He  was  seen  in 
none  of  his  old  haunts,  and  none  of  his  old  friends  who 
were  accustomed  to  see  him  most  frequently  professed  to 
know  anything  regarding  him. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MR.  WESTON  TELLS  THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN 

MR.  WILLIAM  CASSILIS  had  disappeared  as  completely 
as  if  he  had  in  reality  been  the  victim  of  the  tragedy 
which  I  have  described  in  the  last  chapter.  But  if  he 
had  met  his  death  upon  the  cliffs  his  body  must  unfail- 
ingly have  been  discovered,  for  there  was  no  inch  of 
ground  that  had  not  been  thoroughly  examined,  and  there 
was  nothing  found  which  yielded  us  the  slightest  clue  or 
offered  the  merest  indication.  There  was  not  even  the 
trace  of  a  struggle  at  that  point  upon  the  cliffs  where  I  had 
seen  the  shadowy  drama  enacted.  There  was  no  trace 
of  a  footprint  upon  the  virgin  turf;  not  a  stone  that  we 
could  see  had  been  overturned  ;  no  whisper  of  the  secret 
could  be  won  from  the  inviolate  cliffs.  In  another  direc- 
tion also  my  investigation  was  barren  of  results.  There 
was  no  one  missing  along  the  coast,  a  fact  which  could 
not  well  have  been  kept  hidden  for  any  length  of  time, 
and  upon  this  particular  night  the  Preventive  men  had 
been  engaged  upon  a  dangerous  service  on  a  distant  part 
of  the  coast. 

The  matter  was  so  completely  involved  in  mystery  that 
I  could  now  form  no  opinion  or  theory,  and  had  it  not  been 
for  the  strangeness  of  my  lord's  language  and  conduct  in 
regard  to  it,  I  am  certain  I  should  not  have  dwelt  upon  the 
scene  with  the  intensity  and  persistence  which  I  did.  But 
strive  as  I  might  that  fastened  upon  me  like  a  vice,  and 

136 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     137 

with  a  hideous  and  fertile  suggestiveness  poisoned  all  my 
waking  thoughts.  It  lay  in  wait  for  me  at  every  turn,  it 
rose  at  every  instant,  and  in  the  end  so  affected  my  free 
intercourse  with  him  that  I  am  not  sure  what  was  in  my 
mind.  But  though  these  horrible  suspicions  attacked  me 
with  clamorous  insistence  I  still  clung  loyally  to  my  be- 
lief in  his  innocence,  and  though  it  may  appear  strange 
to  say  it  I  think  I  loved  him  better  and  with  a  deeper 
sympathy  at  this  period  than  I  had  ever  done  before. 

Though  he  did  not  utter  a  word  of  complaint,  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  he  suffered  beyond  expression.  His 
cheeks  had  grown  wasted  and  haggard,  his  eyes  dry  and 
bright  with  want  of  sleep  and  the  nervous  fever  that  fol- 
lows upon  extreme  wakefulness ;  he  could  not  rest  for  a 
minute  together  in  the  same  position,  and  flitted  from  oc- 
cupation to  occupation  with  a  feverish  aimlessness.  One 
question  was  always  upon  his  lips — "  Is  there  any 
news  ?  " — and  I  do  not  know  whether  he  received  the  in- 
variable answer  with  a  feeling  of  relief  or  of  despair.  He 
wrote  a  good  deal  shut  up  in  his  own  room  that  he  some- 
times used  as  a  study,  but  I  could  form  no  idea  of  the 
subject  of  his  thoughts,  and  though  usually  careless  in 
these  matters  beyond  the  common  he  now  carefully 
locked  up  his  papers  in  the  armoire  of  which  he  carried 
the  key.  I  am  not  sure,  however,  that  any  one  saw  the 
change  which  had  taken  place  in  him  but  myself.  In 
manner  he  was  still  the  fine  gentleman  we  had  always 
known — courteous  and  considerate  with  his  dependants, 
uncomplaining  and  easily  satisfied,  and  bearing  himself 
outwardly  with  his  usual  urbane  dignity. 

For  a  week  I  had  carried  on  my  fruitless  and  unavail- 


138  HERONFORD 

ing  search,  and  had  exhausted  every  means  of  enquiry 
within  my  reach  ;  no  one  had  seen  or  heard  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Cassilis,  and  the  general  opinion  seemed  to  be  that 
this  was  merely  one  of  his  frequent  disappearances,  and 
that  he  would  return  shortly  a  shade  more  disreputable 
and  more  bloated  than  he  had  left.  I  should  add  that  in 
pursuing  these  enquiries  I  had  been  guarded  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  I  was  certain  that  besides  Lord  Heronford 
and  myself  no  one  knew  what  I  had  seen  upon  the  cliffs, 
or  had  any  idea  of  what  had  taken  place  there.  For 
several  reasons  I  shrank  from  making  this  disclosure ; 
it  could  not  help  me  in  my  investigations,  and — for  this 
was  after  all  the  real  reason  that  I  did  not  even  confess 
to  myself — it  might  entail  consequences  that  I  did  not 
dare  to  contemplate.  I  felt  certain  that  my  early  suspi- 
cions were  shut  up  in  my  own  breast,  and  that  I  alone 
had  any  grounds  for  forming  them. 

Even  during  my  visits  to  Carnforth  I  had  been  as  re- 
served as  elsewhere,  and  if  Victory  had  seen  anything  in 
my  manner — I  am  certain  the  captain  did  not — she  made 
no  remark  upon  it,  for  which  I  was  thankful  at  the  time. 
But  here  also  I  had  another  cause  for  anxiety.  Mr. 
Weston,  who  for  some  time  had  ceased  in  his  attentions, 
had  begun  to  renew  his  visits  with  a  frequency  that  gave 
me  cause  for  alarm,  and  seemed  to  have  won  over  the 
captain  by  a  display  of  good  nature  and  hilarity  which  he 
could  sometimes  assume.  He  could  tell  a  very  good 
story  with  a  natural  turn  of  humour,  and  when  he  cared 
to  hide  his  coarseness  had  the  art  of  proving  a  very  en- 
tertaining companion.  I  felt  that  neither  Victory  nor  her 
father  had  any  suspicion  of  his  real  character,  and  my 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     139 

own  pride  prevented  me  from  saying  anything  to  the  detri- 
ment of  one  whom  I  looked  upon  as  a  possible  rival.  It 
was  not  that  I  doubted  the  faith  and  affection  of  my 
sweetheart — that  I  never  did — but  I  felt  that  he  disliked 
and  hated  me,  and  took  no  pains  to  conceal  his  feelings, 
and  in  a  thousand  little  ways  slighted  or  ignored  me.  In 
any  other  place  or  time  I  should  not  have  borne  with  this 
treatment,  but  here,  where  it  was  a  hundredfold  more  in- 
tolerable, I  had  not  the  means  or  the  power  to  resent  it 
without  provoking  an  open  quarrel.  There  was  no  ap- 
parent deliberateness  in  these  petty  slights  and  insults; 
they  seemed  spontaneous  and  natural,  and  the  free  out- 
come of  that  superiority  with  which  he  assumed  to  re- 
gard me. 

Yet,  notwithstanding,  I  knew  that  he  acted  upon  a  set 
purpose,  and  knowing  the  position  which  I  occupied, 
imagined  that  contempt  was  the  best  weapon  he  could 
use  against  me.  I  suppose  I  was  too  proud  to  remark 
upon  it,  but  it  pained  me  to  think  that  Victory  should 
have  stood  by  and  showed  no  indignation  or  perhaps  a 
certain  indulgent  tolerance.  But  at  that  time  I  knew 
little  of  the  working  of  a  woman's  mind,  or  of  those  sub- 
tle feminine  arguments  by  which  a  woman's  heart  can 
justify  her  conduct  in  aiding  those  whom  she  may  love. 
She  could  not  fail  to  read  wonder  and  remonstrance  in 
my  face,  but  only  once  she  spoke  to  me  of  her  visitor. 

"  I  am  going  to  school  with  Mr.  Weston,  Jack,  and 
hope  to  learn  a  great  many  useful  lessons  before  we  have 
done.  He  knows  so  much  and  is  not  nearly  so  stupid  as 
you  imagine.  When  he  has  completed  my  education  I 
shall  be  able  to  tell  you " 


140  HERONFORD 

"  What,  Victory  ?  " 

"  Some  things  you  would  very  much  like  to  know." 

And  with  that  I  had  to  be  content. 

This  was  the  third  evening  I  found  Mr.  Weston  in- 
stalled at  Carnforth.  I  found  his  horse  tied  at  the  gate 
when  I  came  up  and  himself  lolling  in  the  captain's  chair 
with  a  churchwarden  in  his  hand,  and  a  bottle  of  port 
almost  empty  before  him.  When  I  entered  there  was  an 
almost  imperceptible  halt  of  embarrassment,  and  I  thought 
for  a  moment  that  I  had  been  the  subject  of  the  conver- 
sation, especially  as  I  did  not  see  Victory  in  the  room. 
But  her  voice  was  the  first  to  welcome  me  from  where 
she  was  seated  in  the  embrasure  of  the  window  and  quite 
hidden  by  the  drapery  of  the  curtains. 

"  Sit  down  quietly,  Jack,  and  do  not  interrupt  the  story. 
My  father  and  Mr.  Weston  are  seeing  ghosts,  and  you 
will  break  the  charm." 

The  captain  gave  me  his  hand  silently  and  with  a 
rather  shamefaced  look  on  his  honest  countenance,  and 
again  turned  uneasily  to  his  visitor,  who  sat  on  his  chair 
and  looked  at  me  darkly. 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Cassilis  may  as  well  hear  the  history,  perhaps 
'twill  interest  him.  You  see,"  Mr.  Weston  went  on,  "his 
name  was  Steen — Jan  van  Steen,  and  he  had  lived  with 
the  devil  so  long  that  they  were  a  good  deal  more  than 
speaking  acquaintances.  And  the  devil  took  care  of  him, 
as  the  devil  always  does,  Mr.  Cassilis — very  good  care. 
For  fifteen  years  his  lugger  ran  her  cargo  as  regularly  as 
a  mail-coach,  and  Van  Steen's  dollars  would  almost  have 
satisfied  a  Jew.  But  he  was  voracious,  insatiable,  a  per- 
fect leech.  The  more  ankers  of  Nantes  that  he  ran  ashore 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     141 

the  more  he  wanted  to  run,  and  he  came  to  think  his  call- 
ing as  lawful  as  a  parson's,  and  a  good  deal  more  useful. 
He  grew  crazy  on  that  head,  and  he  worked  his  men  like 
so  many  negroes.  Worked  them  ?  I  should  think  he  did, 
but  only  with  his  eye  and  his  hand,  and  never  a  word  did 
he  speak  from  one  year's  end  to  the  other.  For  ten  years 
I  don't  think  there  was  a  word  spoken  on  board  the  Frau 
of  Haarlem,  but  Jan  van  Steen's  eye  was  worth  all  the 
oaths  that  were  ever  sworn.  His  men  trembled  before  it 
open  and  shut,  and  used  to  declare  that  the  devil  was  plain 
to  be  seen  when  he  looked  at  them.  One  man  went  over- 
board, another  had  his  throat  cut,  a  third  was  found 
strangled  in  his  berth ;  but  the  devil  was  a  silent  devil, 
and  nobody  cried  out  over  the  mystery.  When  a  man 
once  entered  that  vessel  he  never  left  her  again — alive  at 
any  rate — and  there  never  was  a  crew  that  grumbled  less 
and  worked  harder.  Oh  !  Jan  van  Steen  was  a  rare 
captain. 

"  Now  I  should  tell  you  that  Jan,  besides  the  devil,  had 
one  friend — an  excellent  friend,  as  silent  as  himself  and 
quite  as  fond  of  the  brandy  they  ran  ashore.  The  year 
out  and  in  they  drank  and  played  cards  together,  sitting 
in  the  little  cabin  with  never  a  word  between  them,  and 
what  the  stakes  were  nobody  ever  knew  more  than  myself. 
But  while  Jan  grew  thinner  and  more  ghastly  the  mate 
grew  fatter  and  rosier,  and  the  crew  began  to  think  the 
dollars  were  changing  hands,  but  they  couldn't  tell  with 
any  certainty.  No  man  dared  to  look  through  the  sky- 
light or  listen  at  the  door,  but  the  ship  sailed,  and  the 
players  played,  and  the  devil  was  sitting  by  them  all  the 
time.  Well,  things  might  have  gone  on  in  the  same  way 


i42  HERONFORD 

still,  but  the  mate  said  something  Jan  did  not  care  to 
hear,  and  no  man  dared  to  cross  Van  Steen  twice. 

"  They  were  lying  at  the  time  in  Fairford  Bay,  an  ill- 
named,  awful  spot,  with  a  narrow  path  up  the  cliffs  and 
the  devil  of  a  sea  among  the  breakers,  where  the  tide  runs 
like  a  mill-race.  That  night  Jan  and  the  mate  had  business 
on  the  cliffs — what  their  business  was  no  one  knew  but 
themselves,  and  Jan  had  business  the  mate  knew  nothing 
about.  The  crew  saw  them  landing  in  the  cove  and  going 
up  the  cliffs  together,  the  mate  first  with  a  bag  upon  his 
back,  and  Jan  behind  with  his  head  sunk  between  his 
shoulders,  and  his  cap  drawn  down  over  his  eyes.  I  am 
the  only  one  who  knows  what  happened  there,  Mr.  Cas- 
silis,  and  I  don't  ask  you  to  believe  me  unless  you  like. 

"  When  they  got  to  the  top  of  the  cliffs  they  were  both 
tired  and  sat  down  to  rest,  for  it  is  a  stiff  climb  and  the 
mate  had  been  carrying  a  heavy  load.  They  didn't  speak 
a  word  to  each  other,  but  the  mate  was  whistling  all  the 
time,  for,  as  it  turned  out,  he  had  had  the  best  of  the 
bargain — very  much  the  best  of  the  bargain.  Jan  eyed 
him  evilly,  but  the  mate  did  not  care,  for  he  had  either 
grown  accustomed  to  his  look  or  had  something  in  him 
of  the  same  nature  himself,  though  with  more  humour  in 
it.  I  don't  know  how  long  they  sat,  but  at  last  the  mate 
got  up  and  lifted  the  bundle  upon  his  back. 

"  c  It  has  come  to  good-bye,  shipmate,'  he  said.  c  We 
have  sailed  together  for  a  long  spell.' 

"  c  Ten  years  and  better,'  Jan  groaned. 

" l  Better  and  worse ;  I  am  the  better,  you  are  the 
worse.  But  we  have  had  a  merry  time.' 

"  *  I  am  a  beggar.' 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     143 

" l  You  have  the  ship  and  the  crew ;  I  have  the  dol- 
lars. That  is  all.  All's  not  gone  by  the  board  yet.  Put 
to  sea  again,  get  a  few  more  of  these  shining  boys  to- 
gether, and  I'll  come  and  sail  with  you.  Ugh,  we  have 
had  a  fine  time,  you  and  I.' 

"  Then  the  devil  spoke  in  Jan  van  Steen's  ear  and  he 
got  up. 

" l  We  must  shake  hands  before  we  part  at  any  rate.' 

"  The  mate  grew  afraid  of  him  and  stepped  back  till 
one  foot  hung  over  the  chasm. 

" 1 1  don't  like  that  black  look,  Jan  van  Steen.  Don't 
come  near  me.' 

"  But  Jan  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he  should  not  work 
for  twenty  years  and  die  a  beggar  at  the  end  of  it.  Before 
the  mate  could  raise  his  hand  Jan  had  taken  him  by  the 
throat  and  squeezed  the  life  out  of  him.  His  eyes  started 
from  his  head,  his  black  tongue  lolled  out  of  his  mouth, 
and  the  choking  rattle  sounded  in  his  throat.  When  Van 
Steen  saw  that  he  was  dead  he  gave  him  a  little  shake,  such 
as  a  terrier  gives  a  rat,  and  flung  him  backward  over  the 
cliffs,  crashing  headlong  to  the  rocks  four  hundred  feet 
below.  Jan  straightened  himself  and  wiped  the  perspira- 
tion from  his  brows.  It  was  an  ugly  thing  to  do  with 
the  man  he  had  lived  with  so  long,  but  Jan  was  glad 
when  it  was  done.  The  money  was  safe  at  any  rate. 

"  Jan  lifted  the  bundle  where  it  had  fallen,  and  walking 
back  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice  looked  down  at  the  black 
spot  lying  on  the  rocks  with  two  arms  spread  out  like  a 
cross.  All  at  once  he  started  back  with  a  cry  and  dropped 
his  bundle.  He  could  hardly  trust  his  eyes — the  thing  was 
moving.  There  was  no  doubt  of  it.  His  eyes  were  glued 


i44  HERONFORD 

upon  that  awful  object  that  writhed  and  twisted  into  a 
hundred  fantastic  shapes,  and  turned  its  white  face  and 
staring  eyes  continually  toward  him.  Jan  van  Steen  was 
no  coward,  but  he  shivered  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands.  Then  he  looked  again,  and  he  saw  that  the  mate 
had  risen  to  his  feet  and  was  beckoning  to  him  to  come 
down.  He  even  thought  he  could  hear  him  calling  to  him 
— 4Jan  van  Steen,  Jan  van  Steen.'  Jan  resisted  that 
awful  invitation  as  long  as  he  was  able  and  then  his  fears 
got  the  better  of  him,  and  leaving  his  savings  of  twenty 
years  lying  there  like  so  much  dirt  he  began  to  go  down. 
He  was  shaking  so  much  that  he  could  hardly  draw  one  leg 
after  another,  and  he  hung  back  like  a  whipt  boy,  but 
every  time  he  stopped  he  could  hear c  Jan  van  Steen,  Jan 
van  Steen,'  called  by  that  awful  voice. 

"  When  he  got  to  the  bottom  he  walked  straight  to  the 
spot  where  the  thing  was  lying,  and  found  that  it  lay  lifeless 
and  motionless.  He  had  the  courage  left  to  turn  it  over, 
and  he  could  not  understand  it  at  all — that  shapeless, 
broken  mass  that  had  once  been  a  man  had  surely  never 
moved.  There  was  no  life  there — there  had  been  none 
from  the  moment  he  relaxed  his  hold  on  the  cliffs  above. 
Jan's  eyes  were  not  in  the  habit  of  playing  him  tricks 
like  these  and  he  was  angry  with  himself. 

" c  Der  Teuffel ! '  cried  Jan,  invoking  his  best  friend, 
4 1  will  soon  settle  you.' 

"  Then  he  found  a  deep,  narrow  gully  in  the  rocks,  a  sort 
of  natural  grave,  above  the  reach  of  the  tide  at  high  Xvater, 
and  without  more  ado  he  dragged  the  body  here  and 
thrust  it  deep  into  this  ready-made  sarcophagus.  After 
that  Jan  was  a  busy  man  for  half  an  hour.  He  collected 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     145 

a  vast  quantity  of  stones  and  piled  them  up  upon  the 
mate  till  the  hole  was  quite  filled  up  and  they  rose  level 
with  the  top  of  the  rocks.  He  thought  he  could  never 
gather  enough  nor  bury  his  old  friend  deep  enough.  The 
more  the  better;  the  heavier  the  better.  And  when  he 
had  finished  he  wiped  his  forehead  and  shook  his  head. 

" l  Please  God,  you  will  not  rise  out  of  that,  my  friend.' 

"  But  you  will  see. 

"  When  Jan  came  back  to  the  boat  where  the  men 
were  waiting  he  did  not  expect  they  would  ask  him  any 
questions,  and  when  he  threw  his  bundle  into  the  stern- 
sheets,  and  sat  down  beside  it,  they  pushed  off  and  no- 
body said  a  word.  This  was  what  was  always  done,  for 
Jan  encouraged  no  familiarities ;  but  after  a  while  he  be- 
gan to  think  he  must  lay  some  ground  to  account  for  the 
mate's  disappearance,  and  so  he  said  carelessly  — 

" l  You  will  have  to  go  back  for  Mr.  Munday  in  an 
hour,  my  lads.' 

"  The  men  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  and  one  of  them 
whistled  under  his  breath,  for  he  thought  the  skipper  had 
been  drinking.  But  none  of  them  dared  to  contradict 
him. 

" l  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  '  And  then  the  man  added,  c  If  you 
please,  sir,  Mr.  Munday  has  come  aboard  half  an  hour  ago.' 

11  Jan  turned  deadly  sick  for  a  moment  and  then  he 
began  to  swear,  a  thing  he  never  did,  until  the  men  thought 
he  had  taken  leave  of  his  senses  altogether,  and  perhaps 
they  were  not  so  very  far  wrong.  But  Jan  thought  the 
men  were  attempting  to  trifle  with  him,  and  it  looked 
very  like  it,  for  when  they  got  to  the  lugger  the  mate  was 
not  to  be  found  on  board,  and  nobody  knew  anything 


146  HERONFORD 

about  him.  But  the  men  were  positive  they  had  rowed 
him  aboard  before  Captain  van  Steen  had  appeared,  and 
upon  the  one  side  and  the  other  no  one  knew  very  well 
what  to  think.  Only  Jan  had  thoughts  of  his  own. 

"  But  as  to  one  thing  he  had  made  up  his  mind — noth- 
ing under  the  heavens  would  keep  him  another  hour  in 
Fairford  Bay,  and  so  they  got  the  mainsail  on  the  lugger 
and  slid  out  past  the  surf  into  the  dark,  with  a  storm 
coming  up  into  the  hot  night  and  the  thunder  already  be- 
ginning to  mutter  and  growl,  with  distant  flakes  of  blue 
lightning  to  give  it  edge.  Though  they  had  a  lee  shore 
and  a  bad  coast  under  them  Jan  did  not  care  a  straw. 
He  wanted  his  cabin  and  his  bottle,  and  the  quiet  of  his 
own  companionship.  But  he  wanted  what  he  was  never 
to  get  again.  The  lamp  was  lighted,  the  case-bottle  was 
set  out,  and  Jan  seated  himself  at  the  swinging  table  to 
look  the  events  of  the  last  hour  in  the  face.  At  first  he 
was  not  very  comfortable,  but  by  the  time  the  bottle  was 
half  empty  he  was  entirely  himself  again  and  had  recov- 
ered his  self-possession.  He  even  dozed  a  little,  but 
would  waken  with  a  start  and  look  round  him  with  a 
kind  of  expectation.  Then  he  would  rally  himself  on 
his  fears. 

"  l  Ho  !  ho  ! '  he  thought,  l  and  they  rowed  Tom 
Munday — honest  Tom — aboard,  did  they  ?  I  think  not, 
Tom.  I  have  made  you  very  comfortable  in  Fairford 
Bay  with  a  stone  blanket  and  pillow,  and  we'll  meet  at 
the  resurrection,  honest  Tom.' 

"  After  that,  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  he  dozed 
again,  and  for  the  first  time  he  confessed  to  himself  now 
he  was  honestly  frightened  when  he  was  told  the  mate 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     147 

had  been  rowed  to  the  lugger.  But  he  had  discovered 
that  was  impossible,  and  every  minute  and  with  every 
plunge  of  the  Frau  of  Haarlem  he  was  getting  further 
from  the  spot.  He  was  rising  to  fetch  another  bottle 
when  he  sank  back  into  his  chair  with  a  gasp,  and  the 
cold  sweat  stood  out  on  his  forehead  in  separate  drops, 
his  lank  black  hair  was  lifted  on  end  in  his  fright,  and  his 
eyes  bulged  out  from  their  sockets.  The  mate  had  come 
back.  There  he  sat  as  he  had  sat  any  time  these  ten 
years  past  at  the  other  side  of  the  table,  shuffling  the 
cards  and  dealing  them  with  his  slow,  deliberate  habit. 
He  was  not  changed  in  the  slightest,  or  if  changed  only 
more  sinister  and  diabolic.  First  he  dealt  a  card  to  himself, 
then  a  card  to  Jan,  and  when  he  had  exhausted  the  pack 
he  gathered  up  his  cards  and  began  to  sort  them  in  his 
hand.  His  eyes  frightened  Jan  as  much  as  anything 
else.  There  was  such  a  look  there  and  a  yellow  light  in 
them  that  scorched  Jan's  heart  like  a  flame.  And  the 
worst  of  it  was  that  Jan  could  not  help  looking  at  them. 

"  The  gale  was  rising  and  the  Frau  of  Haarlem  went 
staggering  like  a  drunken  man,  but  Jan  never  heeded. 

41 '  Mein  Gott ! '  he  gasped  at  last,  '  you  are  not  dead 
then.' 

"  4  You  are  wrong,  Mynheer  van  Steen,'  said  the  mate, 
still  calmly  arranging  his  cards.  1 1  am  dead  and  my 
soul  is  in  hell  these  three  hours.  But  my  body  has  come 
back,  and  you  have  some  reason  for  fear,  Jan  van  Steen.' 

" c  In  Heaven's  name  what  do  you  want  with  me  ? ' 

" c  You  murdered  your  friend ;  you  robbed  the  dead  ; 
but  you  forgot  that  he  might  come  back  for  his  own. 
And  I  have  come  back.' 


148  HERONFORD 

" l  Take  everything  then/  wailed  the  captain,  c  and 
leave  me  in  peace.' 

"  I  shall  never  leave  you  again,  Jan  van  Steen,  as  long 
as  you  live.  We  will  play  cards  together  while  the 
sternpost  and  the  keel  of  the  Frau  of  Haarlem  hold  to- 
gether, and  after  that  we  will  go  on  playing  to  eternity. 
Oh  !  'twill  be  a  fine  game  for  a  poor  stake,  Jan.' 

"  c  What  stake  ? ' 

" c  Your  worthless  soul,  my  friend.  Now  let  me  see 
what  hand  you  hold.' 

"  After  that  night  the  Frau  of  Haarlem  never  was  heard 
of  again,  but  they  say  that  somewhere  the  captain  and  his 
mate  are  still  sitting  in  the  lugger's  cabin,  and  the  infernal 
game  goes  on  night  and  day,  and  the  mate's  eyes  are  al- 
ways on  Jan  van  Steen,  who  would  like  to  die  and  cannot." 

I  must  do  Mr.  Weston  the  justice  to  say  that  he  told 
this  grewsome  story  with  a  good  deal  of  dramatic  power 
and  with  excellent  effect,  and  while  he  was  speaking  you 
could  have  heard  a  pin  drop  in  the  room.  The  captain, 
whose  pipe  had  gone  out,  sat  staring  with  his  mouth  open 
and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  speaker,  and  Victory  had  risen 
from  her  seat  at  the  window  and  come  forward  into  the 
room,  where  she  stood  motionless,  her  two  hands  resting 
upon  the  table.  I  was  myself  at  once  shocked  and  fas- 
cinated, but  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  for  some  reason 
Mr.  Weston  had  told  this  story  very  largely  for  my  bene- 
fit. He  had  more  than  once  addressed  me  directly,  and 
at  a  particular  point  in  his  tale  had  looked  at  me  with 
significant  meaning.  At  the  same  time  I  did  not  believe 
that  he  knew  anything — indeed,  it  never  occurred  to  me 
that  he  could — regarding  the  tragedy  I  had  myself  wit- 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     149 

nessed  or  my  own  doubts  regarding  it,  but  I  could  not 
help  wondering  at  the  points  in  common  between  the 
two  stories  and  the  particular  emphasis  he  laid  upon  them. 
It  was  probably,  nay,  certainly,  a  mere  coincidence,  and 
it  was  only  my  fears  that  could  transform  it  into  a  par- 
able. He  himself  had  intensely  enjoyed  relating  it,  and 
appeared  pleased  at  the  effect  he  had  created. 

"With  your  leave,"  said  the  captain  after  a  pause, 
during  which  he  had  been  moving  uneasily  in  his  chair. 
"  I  won't  believe  a  word  of  your  story.  'Tis  the  most 
unnatural  ghost  ever  I  heard  of." 

"  In  what  way  does  the  gentleman  displease  you,  sir  ?  " 

"  God  bless  me,"  cries  the  captain,  "  I  don't  mind  a 
fine,  healthy ,  natural  spirit,  do  you  see  ?  But  a  dead  man 
without  a  soul  is  no  more  a  ghost  than  I  am  a  boatswain's 
mate.  There,  there,  Victory,  you  had  better  see  that 
Sparling  brings  up  the  supper." 

"  Mr.  Weston  has  not  frightened  me,"  she  said  with 
some  eagerness,  "  and  I  should  like  to  hear  the  end." 

"  There  is  no  more  to  tell  that  I  know  of,"  said  Mr. 
Weston  bluntly.  "  Mr.  Cassilis  agrees  with  me  that  the 
story  is  pretty  complete  as  it  stands." 

"  But  the  mate  was  not  really  dead,  you  know  ?  " 

"  On  my  conscience  you  credit  me  with  too  much 
knowledge.  I  think  he  must  have  been." 

"  That  is  a  woman  all  the  world  over,"  said  the  cap- 
tain. "  She  won't  hear  of  me  killing  a  grub  on  my  roses." 

"Van  Steen  deserved  no  sympathy  at  any  rate," 
Weston  said,  "  and  I  should  know,  for  I  dealt  with  him 
once  or  twice  myself.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Cassilis,  has  my 
friend  Will  made  his  appearance  yet  ?  " 


i5o  HERONFORD 

"  Not  so  far  as  I  know,"  I  answered  shortly. 

"  And  you  think  he  will  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell.     I  trust  he  may." 

"  Both  Heronford  and  yourself  were  very  fond  of  his 
brother." 

"  We  should  not  care  to  hear  that  any  misfortune  had 
happened  to  him." 

"  It  would  break  both  your  hearts  if  it  did." 

"You  know  more  about  Mr.  Cassilis  than  either  Lord 
Heronford  or  myself,"  I  answered  shortly,  and  merely  in 
a  little  burst  of  temper.  But  my  words  had  an  effect 
that  I  had  not  foreseen.  He  turned  suddenly  upon  me 
with  a  red  and  angry  face,  and  quite  forgetting  where  he 
was  broke  into  a  fine  round  oath. 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  mean,"  I  answered,  in  no  way  put  out,  "  that  you 
were  his  friend  and  confidant  and  knew  his  secrets  better 
than  any  man  alive.  I  should  have  thought  if  he  had 
reasons  for  disappearing  that  you  would  have  been  in  his 
confidence  and  could  probably  have  told  us  his  where- 
abouts without  much  difficulty." 

"  Oh  !  you  thought  that,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Weston  thinks  he  is  dead,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  said 
Victory  gravely. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  he  said  firmly. 

"  Then  you  must  have  some  reason  for  your  knowledge." 

"  My  reasons  are  my  own.  There  are  people  who 
gave  my  friend  a  bad  name,  but  there  may  have  been 
reasons  for  that,  too.  But  for  my  part  I  say  that  he  was 
a  better  man  than  his  brother  or — others  I  could  name. 
He  gave  himself  no  airs  and  affected  no  sanctimonious 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     151 

virtues,  dam'me.  He  may  have  loved  a  bottle  like  other 
gentlemen.  He  could  sing  a  good  song,  tell  a  good 
story,  and  perhaps  loved  a  pretty  face  too  well  for  his 
own  comfort.  But  other  people  have  done  that,  Mistress 
Victory.  There  was  no  harm  in  that." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  about  his  character,"  I  said  with 
rising  heat,  "  and  I  have  never  cared  to  discuss  it." 

"  And  now  one  must  not,  for  Mr.  Weston  says  — " 
Victory  added  and  stopped. 

"  Mr.  Cassilis  knows  he  had  enemies  who  would  have 
liked  very  well  to  see  him  out  of  the  way.  When  I  left 
him  he  was  going  to  see  one  of  them,  and  nobody  ever 
set  eyes  on  him  again." 

u  And  that  was  the  reason  why  you  told  us  the  story 
of  Jan  van  Steen,  Mr.  Weston  ?  "  Victory  said  quietly. 

"  Upon  my  soul,  I  think  it  was,"  he  cried  with  a  laugh. 

But  whatever  he  knew  more,  whether  much  or  little, 
and  I  had  now  begun  to  think  he  knew  much  more  than 
he  had  said,  it  was  impossible  to  draw  him  an  inch 
further.  He  saw  that  he  had  awakened  my  curiosity 
and  alarm,  though  I  had  done  my  best  to  conceal  it,  and 
he  appeared  for  the  present  quite  satisfied  with  this  result. 

Nor  could  I  understand  for  what  reason  Victory  had 
turned  the  conversation  into  this  channel  with  quiet  per- 
sistence, and  showed  so  much  anxiety  with  regard  to  the 
fate  of  Mr.  William  Cassilis.  It  was  not,  I  was  certain, 
merely  feminine  curiosity.  Knowing  her,  or  thinking  I 
knew  her,  so  well,  I  saw  in  her  eyes  and  manner  a  deep 
and  serious  earnestness,  and  an  anxiety  for  which  I  was 
unable  to  account.  I  own  it  set  me  thinking.  Mr. 
Weston  was  my  enemy,  and  as  he  very  well  knew,  up  to 


152  HERONFORD 

this  time,  my  unsuccessful  enemy.  I  had  reason  to  know 
that  he  was  unscrupulous,  and  in  this  case  there  were  grave 
motives  for  his  employing  that  vice  to  my  disadvantage  as 
his  rival.  Was  it  possible,  I  asked  myself,  that  he  was 
endeavouring  to  connect  the  disappearance  of  his  friend 
with  myself,  or  to  suggest  that  I  had  aided  Lord  Heronford 
to  accomplish  a  terrible  and  awful  crime  ?  His  language, 
no  doubt,  had  been  vague  and  mysterious  in  the  extreme, 
but  his  manner  conveyed  a  thousand  times  more  than  his 
words.  There  was  accusation  almost  in  the  way  in  which 
he  had  addressed  me,  and  he  had  seemed  to  me  to  say 
that  he  could  tell  a  great  deal  more  if  he  pleased. 

But  here,  I  need  not  say,  I  felt  no  alarm ;  it  was  else- 
where that  my  dread  began  to  take  root  and  grow.  What 
knowledge  had  he  of  the  actual  facts  ?  Was  William 
Cassilis  really  dead,  and  had  Weston  become  possessed  of 
the  secret  of  which  I  had  believed  myself  the  sole  depos- 
itory ?  Jan  van  Steen  and  the  murder  on  the  cliffs !  That 
story  was  no  mere  coincidence ;  it  led  straight  to  the  scene 
that  I  had  witnessed.  And  how  had  he  learned  ?  Had 
he  also  been  an  eye-witness,  or — so  nimble  are  our  thoughts 
— had  he  himself  taken  part  in  the  drama,  and  were  his 
own  the  guilty  hands  ?  If  that  was  the  case  it  might  be 
possible  in  this  way  to  account  for  the  disappearance  of 
the  body  which  had  so  staggered  and  perplexed  me. 

But  then — in  a  word  I  was  quite  at  sea,  and  on  every 
side  there  were  such  perplexities  and  difficulties  that  I 
knew  not  what  to  think.  Still  there  was  no  doubt  that 
my  enemy  held  the  clue  in  his  hands  wherever  it  led, 
and  Victory  knew  that  as  well  as  myself,  from  whatever 
quarter  she  had  gained  her  knowledge.  Could  she  have 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     153 

imagined,  I  asked  myself,  that  having  reason  to  hate  my 
lord's  brother,  I  had  lent  myself  to  a  plot  against  him  ? 
To-night  she  had  treated  me  with  coolness,  almost  with 
coldness,  and  had  listened  to  Weston's  calumnious  tale 
almost  with  eagerness.  She  had  spoken  to  Mr.  Weston  as 
though  a  confidence  had  been  already  established  between 
them,  and  almost  as  if  they  shared  a  secret  together. 

Such  feelings  upon  my  part  placed  me  altogether  at  a 
disadvantage,  and  while  the  squire  of  Langston  plunged 
riotously  through  jest  and  anecdote,  I  sat  in  a  moody 
silence  nursing  my  own  gloomy  thoughts.  It  had  been 
my  intention  to  overstay  him,  but  he  seemed  certainly  in 
no  hurry  to  take  his  leave,  and  treated  me  rather  as  the 
intruder  who  forced  myself  upon  an  unwilling  company, 
while  he  himself  was  the  welcome  and  honoured  guest. 
The  captain  was  altogether  unconscious  that  we  were  not 
the  most  harmonious  party  in  the  world.  He  rallied  me 
upon  my  reserve,  told  his  old  stories  with  his  old  unflag- 
ging spirit,  and  lighted  his  pipe  that  was  always  going  out 
a  hundred  and  odd  times.  Jan  van  Steen  had  interested 
him  a  good  deal  more  than  William  Cassilis,  and  for 
Mr.  Weston  he  thought  him  an  excellent  companion  and 
the  best  of  good  fellows. 

But  for  my  own  part  I  could  bear  it  no  longer  without 
exhibiting  some  of  the  annoyance  which  I  felt,  and,  as  it 
was  already  growing  late,  I  rose  up  to  take  my  departure. 
I  was  greatly  surprised  when  Mr.  Weston  rose  almost  at 
the  same  moment  and  declared  that  it  was  time  for  him 
to  be  going. 

"  Mr.  Cassilis  has  been  asleep  and  dreaming  about 
ghosts,"  he  said  without  looking  at  me,  "  and,  faith,  I 


i54  HERONFORD 

feel  as  if  I  might  see  them  too.  I'll  see  him  over  the 
running  water  at  any  rate." 

While  he  looked  for  his  riding-whip  and  bade  the  cap- 
tain good-night  hilariously  Victory,  who  had  all  the  night 
been  in  very  high  spirits,  drew  me  a  little  aside  in  the 
most  natural  way  and  without  attracting  attention. 

"  I  think  I  have  found  out  something,  Jack,"  she  whis- 
pered. "  Do  not  say  anything,  and  remember  above  all 
things  you  must  not  quarrel,  and,  Jack — do  not  think 
foolish  thoughts.  Good-nightj  Mr.  Weston,  and  a 
pleasant  ride." 

With  that  she  disappeared. 

Mr.  Weston  and  myself  went  down  the  path  to- 
gether till  we  came  to  the  gate  where  his  horse  was  tied 
that  had  been  standing  for  I  don't  know  how  many 
hours.  He  said  nothing  till  he  unhitched  the  reins,  and 
then  throwing  them  over  his  arm,  and  with  his  hand 
resting  on  the  cropper  of  the  saddle,  spoke  to  me  in  a 
voice  greatly  altered  and  almost  in  what  I  might  call  his 
natural  tone. 

"  I'm  damned  if  I  don't  think  myself  a  good  Christian 
after  all." 

"  I  am  glad,"  I  said,  "  that  you  have  done  something 
to  merit  your  own  approval." 

"  Oh  !  you  speak  like  a  book  of  bishop's  sermons. 
But  I  have  shown  that  I  can  forgive  my  enemies  at  any 
rate." 

"You  mean,  I  suppose,"  I  said  temperately,  "that 
you  have  forgiven  me  ?  " 

He  flung  out  a  wild  oath. 

"  You  struck  me  on  the  face,  Mr.  Prim ;  you  knocked 


THE  STORY  OF  JAN  VAN  STEEN     155 

me  down  before  I  could  defend  myself,  and  there  were 
fifty  people  there  to  see  it  done.  You  knew  I  couldn't 
call  you  out  or  treat  you  like  a  gentleman  ;  you  knew 
that,  by " 

"  Well,  sir  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir  !  I  put  my  affront  in  my  pocket,  for  there 
was  nothing  else  I  could  do,  and " 

"  And  you  forgave  the  offender  ?  " 

"  Did  I  ?  That  will  depend  on  how  he  conducts  him- 
self." 

"  Oh  !  I  thought  you  said  you  had  forgiven  him.  We 
may  as  well  be  plain  with  one  another,  Mr.  Weston,  and 
I  shall  ask  you  to  be  more  explicit.  I  cannot  understand 
your  language." 

"  I  can  speak  plain  enough  when  it  serves  my  purpose. 
You  must  give  up  coming  here — that  is  my  first  plain 
point." 

"  I  cannot  quarrel  with  its  plainness.  May  I  ask  the 
reason  for  this  extraordinary  request  ?  " 

"  Because  I  will  have  it  done." 

"  That  may  be  quite  satisfactory  from  your  point  of 
view,  but  I  am  afraid  it  is  not  equally  satisfactory  from 
mine.  I  fear  it  will  require  a  stronger  reason  than  that, 
Mr.  Weston,  to  induce  me  to  comply  with  your  demand." 

"  I  have  held  my  tongue  so  far,  but  I  think  I  can  show 
you  that  I  am  able  to  back  my  will  with  something 
stronger.  Murder  is  not  a  very  nice  thing,  Mr.  Cassilis." 

"It  is  a  very  ugly  thing,  Mr.  Weston,"  I  answered 
calmly. 

"  Heronford  and  yourselves  should  know.  You  thought 
you  were  safe,  and  there  was  no  one  loved  a  fine  night 


156  HERONFORD 

but  yourselves.  And  Will  Cassilis  has  gone  on  a  visit 
to  his  friends,  has  he  ?  A  long  visit,  Mr.  Cassilis,  and 
an  old  friend ;  but  you  will  think  over  what  I  have  said 
and  let  me  know  when  you  have  made  up  your  mind.  I 
should  like  to  see  you  hanged  very  well,  but  at  present 
there  are  some  things  I  should  like  better.  Don't  take 
too  long  in  thinking  over  it,  for  I  haven't  a  great  stock 
of  patience.  Good-night." 

I  did  not  attempt  to  detain  him.  He  threw  his  leg 
over  the  saddle,  gave  the  horse  a  cut  with  the  whip,  and 
left  me  standing  looking  after  him  in  dismay  and  confu- 
sion. There  was  no  doubt  my  enemy  held  my  secret  in 
his  hands,  and  the  story  of  Jan  van  Steen  was  only  a 
parable. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    GREY   COUNTESS 

I  HAD  a  suspicion  which  amounted  to  certainty  as  to 
who  first  set  the  rumour  afloat,  but  it  was  not  long 
before  it  was  everywhere  bruited  that  Lord  Heronford  had 
killed  his  brother.  It  was  said  that  he  had  flung  him  over 
the  cliffs,  and  such  details  were  added  as  left  no  doubt  in 
my  mind  that  the  original  author  of  the  story  was  in  full 
possession  of  the  facts.  There  were  complaints,  not  in- 
deed loud,  but  widespread,  for  men  still  spoke  with  re- 
serve, that  justice  should  long  since  have  been  placed  on 
the  track  of  the  criminal ;  and  it  was  declared  that  only 
Lord  Heronford's  position  had  hitherto  prevented  the 
necessary  inquiry  from  taking  place.  Of  course  my  lord 
had  no  opportunity  of  hearing  what  was  said  regarding 
him,  but  the  same  reticence  was  not  observed  with  me, 
and  this  dreadful  story  met  me  at  every  turn. 

But  the  care  which  I  took  to  prevent  my  lord  from 
hearing  the  gossip  of  the  world  was  unavailing.  One  after- 
noon in  my  absence  he  received  a  letter,  delivered  by  a 
stranger  to  one  of  the  servants,  and  written  in  an  unknown 
hand.  Believing  that  it  was  upon  a  matter  of  mere  busi- 
ness, with  which  he  now  never  troubled,  he  laid  it  care- 
lessly aside  unopened  to  await  my  return,  for  such  things 
at  this  time  fell  altogether  upon  my  shoulders.  It  so 
happened  that  I  had  been  to  Fareham  to  see  Mr.  Stone 
and  did  not  return  till  much  later  than  usual.  I  found  my 


i58-  HERONFORD 

lord  sitting  up  for  me  in  the  Book  Room,  where  a  fire  had 
been  kindled,  for  the  nights  were  growing  chilly,  and  a 
single  candle  burning  upon  the  table  which  surprised  me, 
for  my  lord  was  like  his  father  and  loved  plenty  of  light. 
Though  there  was  a  book  upon  his  knee  I  do  not  think 
he  had  been  reading,  and  he  was  glad  to  see  me  when  I 
came  in. 

"  You  are  a  late  traveller,  John,"  he  said  without  ris- 
ing. "  It  must  be  nearly  midnight." 

"  It  went  twelve  as  I  came  through  the  village,"  I 
answered.  "  I  was  unable  to  see  Stone  till  five  o'clock, 
and  we  had  a  good  deal  of  business  to  discuss.  The 
leases  at  Appleby  expire  at  Martinmas.  But  I  had 
hoped  that  you  had  gone  to  bed." 

" 1  am  a  bad  sleeper  and  was  looking  forward  to  a  talk 
when  you  came  back.  But  I  daresay  you  are  tired." 

"  Not  in  the  slightest.  There  are  only  two  or  three 
accounts  I  want  to  verify  before  I  forget  them,  and  then 
I  have  finished.  It  will  not  take  me  more  than  a  mo- 
ment." 

"  There  is  no  end  to  business  in  this  world,"  said  my 
lord  with  a  sigh. 

I  went  to  the  table  for  the  purpose  of  lighting  another 
candle  when  my  eye  fell  upon  the  unopened  letter  lying 
among  my  papers  where  my  lord  had  thrown  it.  I  took 
it  up  and  was  about  to  open  it  when  I  caught  sight  of  the 
superscription,  and  I  stopped  short. 

"  You  have  not  read  your  correspondence,"  I  said. 

"  No,  I  have  other  uses  for  my  eyes,  and  it  is  gener- 
ally troublesome.  Who  is  the  fellow  now  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  i  the  hand  is  quite  strange  to  me." 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  159 

"  Trouble,  I  am  certain.  Let  me  hear  what  he 
says." 

I  broke  the  seal  and  opened  the  paper  without  any  pre- 
monition of  evil,  but  the  moment  I  read  the  first  line  I  saw 
that  the  accusation  had  come  home  at  last,  and  that  here 
in  its  full  details  was  all  the  hideous  story  set  out  with 
cruel  and  vindictive  circumstance.  I  stood  holding  the 
letter  to  the  light  with  my  eyes  glued  to  the  page,  and  all 
the  while  my  mind  was  doing  a  twofold  work.  I  could 
not  help  reading  the  words,  and  while  I  read  I  clearly  fol- 
lowed their  meaning,  but  all  the  time  I  was  wondering  in 
what  way  I  could  prevent  my  lord  from  knowing  what  I 
read.  I  knew  that  he  was  sitting  watching  me  with  a 
quiet,  settled  smile  upon  his  face  and  without  any  fore- 
boding of  the  truth  ;  I  could  feel  his  eyes  upon  me.  But 
strive  how  I  might  I  could  not  conceal  my  agitation.  I 
saw  that  my  hands  were  shaking,  and  I  knew  that  the 
blood  had  left  my  cheeks. 

The  moment  that  I  had  feared  had  come  at  last,  and  it 
was  through  me,  who  would  have  done  anything  to  spare 
him,  that  he  was  to  hear  what  the  world  was  saying.  The 
brutal  words  that  I  read  rang  in  my  ears  and  swam  large 
before  my  eyes.  I  read  them  twice  over,  and  then  feeling 
that  I  must  face  the  ordeal,  flung  the  letter  upon  the  table 
carelessly  and  reached  for  the  books  I  wanted.  But  though 
he  had  said  nothing  he  had  noticed  my  agitation,  and  I  had 
aroused  his  interest.  He  was  evidently  waiting  for  me  to 
say  something,  but  for  my  life  I  could  not  find  a  word  to 
utter.  I  opened  my  book  of  accounts  and  appeared  to  be 
seeking  for  the  figures  that  I  wanted.  He  allowed  me  to  go 
on  until  I  seemed  to  have  finished,  without  saying  a  word, 


160  HERONFORD 

and  I  began  to  think  that  perhaps  the  danger  was  past. 
But  I  was  mistaken.  When  I  had  done  and  closed  the 
book  he  rose  in  his  chair. 

"  The  letter  seems  to  have  given  you  annoyance,"  he 
said,  "  or  perhaps  as  usual  you  wished  to  spare  me  pain. 
Are  the  duns  knocking  so  loudly  at  the  door  ?  " 

"  It  is  nothing,"  I  answered. 

"  Nothing  !     The  writer  has  a  good  deal  to  say." 

"  The  writer  does  not  generally  spare  his  reader,"  I 
answered,  with  an  assumption  of  cheerfulness.  "  This 
has  answered  itself.  Shall  I  tell  you  what  Stone  had  to 
say  about  Appleby  and  the  new  leases  ? " 

"  Presently.  But  first  let  me  see  that  unpleasant  let- 
ter. Perhaps  I  should  have  opened  it  myself.  You  are 
doing  too  much  for  me,  and  one  is  only  young  once." 

"  I  should  prefer,  my  lord,  that  you  did  not  read  this 
letter." 

"  No  !  That  is  very  like  you,  John.  And  yet  you 
said  it  was  of  no  importance." 

"  At  least  it  requires  no  answer." 

"  Then  I  think  I  can  bear  it  with  equanimity.  I 
should  like  to  see  it." 

"  My  lord,"  I  cried,  taking  a  step  forward,  "  I  beseech 
you  leave  it  in  my  hands.  The  villain  who  wrote  it 
wished  nothing  better  than  it  should  come  under  your 
eyes.  That  was  his  object  and  I  would  not  help  him. 
Indeed  you  must  not  read  it." 

"  I  understand,"  he  answered  calmly  ;  "  I  think  I 
understand.  But  we  cannot  put  off  the  evil  day.  It 
must  come  in  spite  of  ourselves.  I  must  see  what  the 
writer  has  to  say  concerning  Richard,  Lord  Heronford." 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  161 


"  But,  my  lord " 

11  Why  should  you  fear  for  a  few  words  more  or  less  ? 
If  they  are  true  there  is  nothing  here  that  can  surprise  me ; 
if  they  are  false  they  cannot  injure  me." 

He  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  steadily  to  the  table, 
though  I  would  have  stopped  him  if  I  dared.  He  took  up 
the  letter  where  I  had  thrown  it,  and  sat  down  in  the 
seat  I  had  quitted  that  he  might  take  advantage  of  the  light. 
His  thin  white  hands  were  quite  firm  and  his  face  was  un- 
ruffled only  for  the  little  frown  between  his  eyes.  Then  he 
began  to  read  and  I  stood  watching  him,  following  his  gaze 
as  he  went  down  the  page  and  turned  the  leaf.  He  read  on 
steadily  without  a  pause  until  he  came  to  the  end,  and  I 
almost  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  had  finished,  so 
great  was  the  strain  upon  me.  He  laid  down  the  letter 
without  a  word  and  looked  up  in  my  face.  I  did  not 
speak  but  I  am  sure  he  knew  all  that  I  would  have  said. 
But  all  the  time  I  wondered  at  his  apparently  perfect 
self-possession. 

"  I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  know  who  is  the  writer. 
It  is  a  person  of  some  education ;  he  writes  with  force 
and  clearness." 

"  He  is  a  pitiful  villain,"  I  said  indignantly. 

"  Ah  !  Do  not  judge  any  man  harshly  or  hastily  ;  he 
probably  believes  that  he  writes  the  truth,  and  he  has  not 
hurt  me.  But " 

I  stood  silent. 

"  I  would  have  spared  you.  And,"  my  lord  went  on, 
"  he  writes  as  if  he  had  seen  everything,  heard  everything, 
knew  everything.  He  speaks  like  a — a  man's  conscience. 
It  is  a  pretty  tale  he  tells,  John,  and  hangs  together 


162  HERONFORD 

wonderfully.  You  have  not  heard  anything  like  it  be- 
fore ?  " 

"  My  lord,"  I  cried,  now  almost  glad  to  get  rid  of  my 
secret,  "  I  have  heard  it  all  before." 

"  And  you  did  not  tell  me  ?  "  he  said  reproachfully. 
"  That  was  not  like  my  friend.  But  it  is  as  well  to  hear 
what  the  world  is  saying." 

"  The  world  is  a  liar,"  I  cried.  "  Why  should  I  carry 
its  slanders  to  your  ears  ?  " 

"Ah!  why  indeed?" 

Lord  Heronford  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room, 
his  face  hidden  from  me  in  the  shadows,  but  I  could  not 
notice  any  signs  of  agitation  about  him.  There  was  cer- 
tainly none  in  his  voice. 

"  From  whom  did  you  first  hear  this — this  wretched 
story  ?  " 

"  The  first  hint  came  from  Mr.  Weston,  of  Langston, 
but  since  then — " 

"  Yes,  he  was  my  brother's  friend,  his  close  associate.  I 
have  sometimes  wondered  how  much  he  knew,  but  I  think 
he  does  not  know — everything.  Had  he  known  he  would 
not  have  spared  me — Good  God  !  I  say  me — so  long. 

"  But,"  cried  my  lord,  "  I  had  almost  forgotten.  You 
yourself  were  on  the  cliffs  and  saw  the  deed.  Will  you 
accuse  me  too  ?  " 

"  If  I  had  only  seen,"  I  cried. 

"  Then  I  should  indeed  have  had  a  faithful  witness. 
Not  even  a  suspicion,  John  ?  " 

"  My  dear  lord,"  I  groaned,  "  you  see  my  heart.  Have 
I  not  known  you  for  years — the  truest,  tenderest  friend, 
the  faithfulest  brother,  the  kindest  heart  in  all  the  world  ? 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  163 

Suspicion !  I  would  ten  thousand  times  rather  doubt 
myself.  I  would  not  even  have  believed  the  witness  of 
my  eyes." 

He  seemed  pleased  with  my  warmth,  and  held  out  his 
hand,  which  was  burning  hot. 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  for  a  man  to  know  that  he  has  one 
friend.  I  have  one  faithful  friend  at  least." 

"  Lord  Heronford  needs  no  friend  but  himself,"  I  said 
gravely.  "  My  lord,  you  will  help  me  to  stamp  out  this 
accursed  falsehood  ?  It  has  begun  to  grow  without  cause, 
and  the  longer  you  remain  passive  the  harder  it  will  be  to 
trace  the  first  slanderer.  I  think,  nay,  I  am  sure,  I  can 
find  the  author,  and  if  you  will  give  me  leave " 

"  You  must  do  nothing  rashly.  Suppose — I  say  sup- 
pose— the  story  here  were  true  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  for  God's  sake,  do  not  speak  like  that." 

"  Ah  !  but  we  must  look  on  every  side." 

"  I  could  never  suppose  it  true." 

"  I  do  not  mean  as  the  writer  puts  it — a  deliberate  crime 
brooded  over  for  days,  weeks,  months,  wrought  out  with 
cold  and  devilish  malice — not  that,  thank  God,  not  that, 
but  something  that  might  seem  the  same  to  the  world, 
something  reaching  almost  to  the  same  black  guilt,  some- 
thing almost  as  horrible,  unnatural,  and  ghastly.  I  seem 
to  myself  to  have  been  waiting  patiently  for  this,  and  it 
has  come  at  last.  The  writer,  though  he  did  not  mean 
it,  has  proved  himself  my  friend.  It  is  better  that  you 
should  hear  the  truth  from  me,  for  I  know  now  that  I 
am  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice." 

"  Tell  me  nothing,"  I  said,  "  that  gives  you  pain." 

"  Ah  !  though  you  loved  me,  I  have  seen  your  own 


164  HERONFORD 

fear  in  your  face,  which  you  would  not  admit  or  ac- 
knowledge to  yourself.  It  will  give  me  ease  to  tell  you. 
I  thought  I  was  strong,  and  I  am  only  a  child." 

He  sat  down  on  the  chair  beside  me  and  took  up  the 
letter  in  his  hand. 

"This  cur  says  I  feared  and  hated  my  brother.  He 
was  right  and  wrong,  for  he  does  not  know  me.  I  feared 
his  passion,  his  selfish  temper,  his  shameless  disregard  of 
my  name  and  his,  and  I  feared  his  knowledge  of  my  own 
shame.  But  God  knows  I  did  not  hate  him.  We  were 
brothers,  and  he  could  not  help  himself,  for  he  was  only 
as  he  was  made.  You  have  yourself  seen  how  he  used 
to  treat  me,  but  you  did  not  know  the  half.  The  half! 
You  knew  nothing." 

"  I  have  seen,"  I  cried,  "  how  much  you  have  borne 
with  him." 

"  Never  as  I  should  have  borne — I  confess  my  fault. 
But  the  story  goes  far  back — for  years  and  years  of  watch- 
fulness— almost  to  my  youth.  There  was  a  time  in  my 
life  when  I  was  mad  as  a  man  is  mad  when  God  has  for- 
saken him  and  the  fire  of  hell  is  consuming  his  heart.  I 
had  squandered  the  present,  mortgaged  the  future,  spent 
every  farthing  I  could  raise,  till  I  was  weighed  down  with 
a  load  of  debts,  and  still  my  lusts  were  not  satisfied,  my 
passions  were  not  slaked,  and  my  soul  still  kept  calling 
out  for  more.  Good  God  !  it  is  a  fearful  dream  now. 
A  madman  panting  after  his  hot  sins.  I  recollected 
nothing  but  the  fierce  delights  I  hungered  after.  I  for- 
got that  I  should  some  day  have  to  pay  the  penalty.  And 
I  have  paid  it." 

Alas  !   I  could  see  that  he  was  paying  it  now. 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  165 

"  There  was  a  little  while  that  my  better  angel  fought 
with  me,  and  I  was  almost  saved — almost — and  the  end 
was  worse  than  any  man  could  guess.  One  wicked  night 
did  it  all,  and  in  the  morning  there  were  ten  thousand 
pounds — a  debt  of  honour — that  I  a  pauper  must  pay. 
I  was  mad — I  know  I  was  mad — and  never  thought  of 
what  I  did.  To  pay  that  debt  I,  who  was  a  gentleman, 
sacrificed  everything  that  should  be  dear  to  a  man — love, 
honour,  happiness,  peace,  good  name.  And  before  I  knew 
where  I  was  standing  I  had  become  a  criminal  for  whom 
there  was  no  retreat  or  safety.  That  was  the  fate  of 
Richard  Cassilis,  the  future  Lord  Heronford,  at  twenty- 
five.  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  shrink  from  me." 

"  Before  God,  I  pity  you  with  all  my  heart." 

"  I  wonder  will  you  pity  me  when  you  know  every- 
thing. There  were  reasons,  there  still  are  reasons,  why 
I  guarded  that  secret  from  the  knowledge  of  the  world — 
from  my  brother,  from  you — and  hoped  it  should  never  be 
known  till  I  was  dead.  I  was  not  afraid  to  meet  the  pun- 
ishment I  deserved,  but  that  punishment  would  not  have 
fallen  on  myself  alone.  It  was  not  even  the  honour  of 
Heronford — who  am  I  that  I  should  talk  of  honour  ? — but 
through  my  attainted  blood  the  punishment  would  have 
fallen  on  one  I  love  better  than  myself.  It  will  not  be 
long  till  you  know  what  I  mean — I  cannot,  I  dare  not, 
tell  you  now." 

"  Tell  me  nothing,"  I  cried,  with  almost  a  glimmer- 
ing of  the  true  light  breaking  in  on  me  at  last  and  a  new 
love  surging  in  my  heart,  "  tell  me  nothing  you  do  not 
wish  me  to  know." 

"  Ah,  John  !  you  have  been  in  the  place  of  a  son  to  me 


i66  HERONFORD 

— I  have  sometimes  almost  thought  you  were  my  son. 
But  what  would  become  of  him  if  his  father's  crime  were 
blazoned  to  the  world  ?  Let  the  secret  lie  till  I  am  carried 
yonder — I  who  am  tired  of  living.  In  the  escritoire  you 
will  find  the  full  history  and  all  the  proofs  complete — 
everything  in  order,  not  a  document  missing.  As  my 
executor  you  will  have  little  trouble  in  proving  your — my 
fault.  The  world  will  talk  for  ten  days,  and  then  all  of 
Richard  Cassilis  and  his  sins  will  be  forgotten." 

He  sat  watching  me  with  an  unwavering  look  that  took 
its  steadfastness  not  from  courage  but  from  the  weary 
resolution  of  hopelessness.  The  candle  that  now  burned 
dimly  with  a  long  wick  left  his  face  in  the  shadow,  but 
I  could  see  his  eyes. 

u  That  was  the  first  step,"  he  went  on  after  a  long 
pause,  "  and  it  has  led  us  here.  My  father  knew,  and  it 
embittered  his  last  days,  but  pride,  not  love,  kept  him 
silent,  and  I  hoped  that  there  was  no  other  person  had  any 
suspicions  of  the  truth.  I  think — I  am  sure — that  was 
so  for  some  years,  and  how  the  clue  first  came  into  my 
brother's  hands  I  cannot  tell.  But  I  think  it  was  by  some 
foolish  and  reckless  words  I  spoke  on  the  night,  you  re- 
member, before  Mr.  Earnshaw  left  Heronford.  But  he 
grasped  the  truth,  and  from  that  hour  till  he  disappeared 
I  had  not  one  moment's  rest  or  peace.  I  am  sure  he  took 
a  pleasure  in  torturing  me,  and  a  hundred  times  threatened 
to  denounce  me.  But  the  proofs  were  not  all  to  his  hand, 
and  he  was  not  certain  where  his  own  interest  lay  if  my  sin 
was  discovered.  That  was  my  only  hope  of  safety,  but  I 
knew  how  treacherous  and  insincere  that  hope  might 
prove. 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  167 

"  I  was  at  the  mercy  of  a  drunken  brawler,  who  was 
bound  by  no  restraint  of  feeling,  no  pity,  no  honourable 
shame.  I  waited  to  hear  my  secret  from  Weston's — from 
a  hundred  lips ;  I  listened  for  the  sharpening  of  the  sword 
of  justice,  and  I  trembled  for  the  destruction  of  my  hopes 
— my  hope  that  I  might  die  before  it  came.  All  the  time 
I  paid  him  for  his  silence  he  taunted  me  with  my  dis- 
honour, and  yet,  as  heaven  is  my  witness,  I  never  thought 
or  dreamed  that  I  should  raise  my  hand  against  him. 
You  remember  the  night  upon  the  cliffs.  I  am  not  sure 
now  whether  he  was  alone,  but  he  must  have  been  watch- 
ing and  waiting  for  me — it  was  no  wish  or  will  of  mine 
that  I  should  meet  him.  I  was  patient  with  him  beyond 
the  endurance  of  a  saint;  I  listened  to  his  threats  and 
reproaches,  and  I  thought  that  I  had  no  spirit  left  to 
stand  up  against  him. 

"  But  at  last  he  threatened  not  me  but  another  whom  it 
was  my  duty  to  protect,  and  then  for  the  first  time  he  stung 
me  to  defence  and  retaliation.  But  not  in  that  way — God 
knows  not  in  that  way.  I  spoke  wildly,  madly,  and  then 
I  raised  my  arm  to  warn  him— only  to  warn  him,  not  to 
strike  him.  But  it  was  in  anger — almost  in  hatred.  He 
was  afraid  of  me,  for  he  was  always  a  coward  ;  but  he  need 
not  have  feared  me,  for  I  would  nor  have  hurt  him  for  the 
world — not  for  the  world.  You  saw  it  all — I  see  it  still. 
He  had  forgotten  where  we  were  standing,  and  he  stepped 
back  to  avoid  the  blow  he  feared.  I  could  not  believe 
that  he  was  gone,  but  I  knew  it  in  a  moment,  and  I  know 
it  now.  I  know  what  Cain  felt  when  the  blood  of  Abel 
cried  to  him  from  the  ground.  You  do  not  speak  to 
me." 


i68  HERONFORD 

"  I  was  thinking,  my  lord,"  I  said. 

"  Thinking  ?  " 

"  I  was  thinking  whether  Mr.  Weston  was  with  his 
friend,  or  does  he  only  guess." 

"  What  does  it  matter  now  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  matters  a  great  deal.  I  find  it  very  hard  to 
put  my  thought  in  words,  but  I  know  now,  indeed  I  al- 
ways knew,  there  is  no  guilt  upon  your  hands.  'Twas  a 
terrible,  a  deplorable  accident,  but  that  is  quite  a  different 
thing.  And  I  am  sure  Mr.  Weston  could  not  have  wit- 
nessed what  I  saw.  My  lord,  I  will  fight  him  and  the 
world  with  his  own  weapons.  I  am  glad  I  know  every- 
thing." 

"  And  you  do  not  shrink  from  me  ?  " 

"  Neither  I  nor  any  honest  man,"  I  answered  with 
emphasis.  "  Why  should  I  or  any  man  for  what  was  no 
more  your  fault  than  it  is  my  own  ?  'Tis  your  own  kind 
heart  and  tender  conscience  that  have  distorted  this 
lamentable  deed  till  it  has  put  on  the  face  of  guilt.  'Tis 
the  mind  that  makes  the  guilty  man  ;  you  could  not  help 
it ;  your  hands  are  clean." 

He  caught  eagerly  and  hopefully  at  the  comfort  in  my 
words. 

"  You  think  that ;  indeed,  you  think  that !  But  I 
should  have  borne  with  him  for  I  was  wiser,  older, 
stronger;  I  should  have  yielded " 

"  Years  ago,"  I  answered,  "  you  should  have  ceased  to 
bear  with  him  for  he  was  not  worthy  of  your  kindness. 
This  is  a  time  when  we  can  only  afford  to  speak  the 
truth  even  of  the  dead.  He  was  a  bad  man,  and  he  met 
a  just  end.  It  was  the  judgment  of  God." 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  169 

"  Upon  us  both,"  cried  my  lord  bitterly. 

"  I  think  indeed  upon  both  of  you.  But  we  cannot 
alter  the  past ;  regret  is  the  amendment  of  fools,  my  lord ; 
we  must  face  the  future.  I  shall  speak  only  once  of  the 
secret  that  you  have  kept  so  long.  I  think  now  I  dimly 
guess  its  nature,  and,  guessing  that,  I  am  certain  your 
brother  made  no  confidant,  and  shared  his  discovery  with 
no  accomplice.  With  his  own  hopes  he  would  have 
feared  to  do  it,  and  upon  your  death  he  may  have  looked 
either  to  destroying  the  proofs  of  which  you  have  spoken 
or  finding  them  defective.  I  think,  I  am  sure,  that  secret 
is  safe.  For  the  other,  my  dear  lord,  we  can  both  face 
the  world  bravely,  for  we  know  that  you  are  innocent. 
Mr.  Weston  has  guessed  part  of  the  truth — and  how 
small  a  part — for  he  is  keen-scented  and  quick,  and 
would  not  hesitate  to  piece  the  lie  to  serve  his  purpose. 
Perhaps,  indeed,  he  was  waiting — I  have  it  now,"  I  went 
on  with  a  sudden  inspiration  ;  "  it  was  he  who  removed 
the  body — I  could  swear  it.  That  morning  I  saw  the 
lugger  that  he  sails  in  Carnforth  Bay,  and  he  has  lain  by 
till  he  can  strike  us  both.  I  never  guessed  till  now. 
But  he  has  lain  too  long." 

"  Ah,  John  ! "  says  my  lord,  "  I  like  to  see  the  light 
of  battle  in  your  eyes.  It  gives  me  courage." 

"  My  lord,  we  will  fight  this  fight  together." 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  me. 

"  If  we  did  not  stand  together,  who  should  ?  "  he  said 
softly. 

Our  eyes  spoke  what  neither  of  us  dared  to  put  into 
words. 

"  If  we  did  not  stand  together,  who  should  ?  "  he  re- 


170  HERONFORD 

peated,  still  holding  my  hand  in  his.  "  I  hope  some  day 
you  will  altogether  forgive  me." 

"We  will  try  to  bear  the  burden  together,"  I  said 
steadily,  "  and  if  I  had  known  earlier " 

"  Ah  !  if  I  had  had  courage — you  will  find  it  all — the 
long,  shameful  story — locked  up  there,  and  you  will  then 
know  how  much  I  have  suffered.  I  could  not  bear  to 
read  it  again — I  could  not  look  at  it.  Take  the  key;  it 
contains  your  birthright  and  my — legacy.  You  are  now 
the  proper  guardian." 

"  Let  us  live  as  we  have  lived,"  I  said.  "  It  is  better 
that  we  should  wait." 

"  No,  no,"  he  cried,  "  I  am  already  easier  to  know 
that  you  share  my  secret.  It  has  crushed  and  broken 
me." 

I  took  the  key  from  his  hand  without  any  further  pro- 
test. Then  he  did  what  he  had  never  done  before ;  he 
placed  his  two  hands  gently  on  my  shoulders,  and  draw- 
ing me  toward  him  kissed  me  twice  upon  the  forehead. 
Neither  of  us  spoke  a  word,  but  the  silence  was  more 
eloquent  than  any  words  of  ours.  I  could  only  see  him 
dimly  through  the  midst  of  my  own  tears. 

"  And  now,  John,  will  you  help  me  to  my  room  ? " 

I  took  up  the  candle  without  a  word  and  gave  him  my 
arm.  He  placed  his  hand  upon  it,  and  I  felt  how  it 
trembled.  The  fire  had  long  since  gone  out,  the  room 
was  full  of  quivering  shadows,  and  the  midnight  silence 
caught  up  the  faint  echo  of  our  footsteps  as  we  moved 
to  the  door.  That  was  concealed  by  a  curtain  of  tapestry, 
and  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  it  lay  slightly  open,  yet 
I  was  almost  positive  that  I  had  closed  it  carefully  after 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  171 

me.  Though  I  did  not  suspect  there  might  be  any  eaves- 
dropper, I  was  annoyed  at  this,  and  was  angry  with  my- 
self that  I  had  not  been  more  careful.  But  I  am  sure  my 
lord  did  not  notice  anything.  I  threw  the  door  wide  open 
and  we  paused  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold,  the  candle 
that  I  carried  giving  forth  a  faint,  yellow  light,  and  the 
long  corridor  with  its  many  doors  stretching  before  us 
from  shadow  into  darkness.  I  do  not  quite  know  why  I 
halted ;  it  may  have  been  merely  instinct  j  it  may  have 
been  the  warning  of  a  finer  sense  than  any  appreciated 
by  the  understanding.  But  I  stopped  and  felt  a  little 
shiver  of  nervous  apprehension  too  vague  to  put  into 
words.  I  could  not  understand  or  explain  it,  but  my 
mind  had  been  excited  and  I  was  full  of  fear  and  fore- 
boding. I  listened  with  all  my  ears ;  I  endeavoured  to 
evoke  some  palpable  form  from  the  grey  shadow  and  fur- 
ther gloom.  My  lord  caught  a  glimpse  of  my  irresolu- 
tion. 

"  What  is  it,  John  ?  " 

11  Nothing,"  I  answered.  "  Nothing — stay,  did  you 
hear  that  ? " 

I  could  have  sworn  I  heard  the  sound  of  someone 
breathing  softly,  and  a  moment  afterwards  the  fall  of  a 
footstep  as  of  a  person  walking  with  great  gentleness. 
Surely  it  could  not  have  been  merely  fancy,  and  yet  it 
might  have  been !  It  was  long  since  I  had  felt  in  the 
same  way  before ;  not  since  the  days  when  my  boyish 
mind  had  played  in  my  loneliness  with  the  phantoms  of 
the  night,  and  the  superstitious  terrors  of  childhood  had 
encircled  me  with  their  appalling  reality.  I  thought  I 
had  entirely  outgrown  the  feeling  and  that  it  had  lost  its 


i72  HERONFORD 

hold  upon  me,  but  every  moment  I  felt  that  horrible 
dread  grow  more  and  more  acute.  My  lord  caught  my 
alarm,  and  we  both  stood  listening. 

"  There  is  someone  here,"  I  whispered. 

"  I  do  not  think  there  can  be." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.     There  it  is.     Listen." 

Again  I  distinctly  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps,  and 
not  very  far  from  where  we  stood.  The  candle  only 
illumined  a  few  yards  round  us,  and  I  held  it  up  above 
my  head  as  I  advanced  half  a  dozen  paces  forward. 

"  My  God  !  "  I  cried,  "  who  is  it  ?  " 

My  heart  had  almost  stopped  beating  in  my  bosom.  I 
stood  paralyzed  with  terror.  I  could  not  have  moved  to 
have  saved  my  life.  My  eyes  were  fixed  with  the 
paralysis  of  perfect  fascination.  At  first  it  was  a  mere 
motionless  shadow,  only  a  little  denser  than  the  shadow 
in  which  it  stood.  A  shape  so  vague  and  indistinct  as 
hardly  to  be  discerned.  And  then  it  seemed  to  grow  out 
of  the  shadow  and  to  gather  form.  And  then  before  I 
knew — almost  before  I  had  time  to  realise  the  fact — a 
grey  Agure  with  a  white  face — I  could  only  see  the  colour, 
it  was  so  faint — moved  rustling  past  me  and  disappeared 
into  the  darkness.  It  was  hardly  seen  before  it  was  gone, 
and  yet  to  look  back  on  it  it  seemed  to  have  been  there  a 
lifetime.  I  could  not  resist  the  impulse.  I  heard  my 
lord  give  a  little  gurgling  groan  behind  me  as  I  leaped 
forward  in  pursuit,  but  only  the  stout  wood-work  of  the 
door  against  which  I  stumbled  met  my  hands. 

Then  the  awful  sense  of  the  supernatural,  blind  and 
unreasoning,  again  overcame  me.  The  old  story  of  my 
childhood  flashed  back  upon  me,  and  struck  me  with  the 


THE  GREY  COUNTESS  173 

cold  horror  of  it.  I  turned  round  to  where  my  lord  was 
standing  with  a  fixed  terror  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  saw  it  too  ?  "  he  gasped. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  I  cried  involuntarily,  "  the  Grey  Count- 
ess !  My  lord,  I  could  not  have  believed " 

"  No,  you  did  not  see  the  face  ?  " 

"  I  did  not.     No." 

"  Ah  !  I  knew  you  did  not.  My  God  !  you  did  not. 
But  he  will  not  let  me  rest.  He  is  following  me  from 
the  grave." 

"  Who  is  following  you  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  Oh  God  !  My  brother  has  come  back.  It  was  his 
face  and  eyes." 

"  You  fancy  that,  my  lord." 

He  turned  upon  me  almost  with  a  certain  fierceness, 
shaken  as  he  was. 

"  Fancy  !  Did  we  both  fancy  that  we  saw  that  cold 
shadow  rising  out  of  nothing  and  passing  into  nothing  ? 
Are  your  own  lips  white,  and  are  your  own  hands  shak- 
ing for  a  mere  fancy  ?  We  both  saw  it  with  our  living 
eyes,  but  the  message  was  for  me  alone.  I  am  not  jnis- 
taken  ;  I  know  the  truth.  My  brother  has  come  back." 

"  I  thought,"  I  said  doubtfully,  "  I  heard  the  sound 
of  footsteps.  Perhaps  we  are  both  mistaken." 

u  Help  me  to  my  room,  John.  I  am  sure  it  was  a 
message  for  me,  and  I  must  obey  it." 

Whether  it  was  that  my  own  nerves  were  shaken,  or 
that  I  was  impressed  by  his  terror  and  the  midnight  silence 
of  this  remote  and  gloomy  corridor  had  affected  me,  I  can- 
not tell,  but  for  the  moment  he  almost  won  me  over  to 
his  belief.  When  I  felt  his  hand  in  my  own,  bathed  with 


174  HERONFORD 

cold  perspiration,  and  saw  his  white  stricken  face,  I  al- 
most looked  for  the  reappearance  of  the  apparition. 
Once  a  door  slammed  in  a  distant  part  of  the  house,  and 
I  started  so  violently  that  the  candle  had  almost  fallen 
from  my  hands.  Nor  was  it  till  we  reached  my  lord's 
room,  where  there  was  a  bright  fire  and  the  full,  pleasant 
shine  of  two  burning  lamps,  that  I  was  able  to  shake  off 
my  horrible  panic.  My  lord  sank  into  a  chair  by  the 
bedside,  and  I  poured  out  for  him  a  quantity  of  spirits  in 
a  glass,  which  I  compelled  him  to  drink.  But  I  could 
see  that  my  medicine  failed  to  touch  the  deep  spring  where 
his  malady  had  its  rise  ;  his  broken  and  diseased  mind 
failed  to  respond  to  my  words  of  encouragement,  and  noth- 
ing that  I  could  say  had  any  effect  in  rousing  him.  Now 
that  the  first  sudden  shock  of  fear  was  over  he  desired  to 
be  left  alone,  like  a  man  altogether  abandoned  to  his 
despair  and  beyond  the  reach  of  hope.  And  after  I  had 
done  all  that  was  in  my  power  I  left  him  unwillingly. 
That  night  Lord  Heronford  had  his  second  seizure. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    SECRET   OF    A    MAN'S    LIFE 

THIS  second  stroke  by  which  Lord  Heronford  was 
smitten  was  far  more  grave  and  serious  than  the  first,  and 
it  was  thought  that  he  could  not  possibly  recover.  When 
the  servant  had  entered  his  room  in  the  morning  he  had 
found  him  lying  close  to  the  door  quite  unconscious  of 
where  he  was,  and  only  able  to  move  his  limbs  as  an  in- 
fant does  apparently  without  conscious  volition.  His 
powers  of  speech  were  completely  paralysed,  and  he  lay 
with  his  eyes  wide  open  and  meaningless.  I  had  never 
seen  anyone  in  this  condition  before,  and  I  thought  it  a 
picture  infinitely  pitiful.  At  one  sudden  and  swift  step 
the  man's  mind  had  relapsed  into  the  perfect  blank  of 
first  childhood,  and  his  look  was  that  of  the  infant  that 
looks  with  wonder  that  is  hardly  wonder  on  the  scene 
of  his  new  arrival.  He  recognised  no  one,  but  with  the 
same  vacant  look  his  eyes  followed  us  as  we  moved 
through  the  room.  I  had  immediately  sent  post  for  the 
medical  practitioner  at  Fareham,  but  on  his  arrival  he  ad- 
mitted that  he  could  do  nothing  but  make  some  trifling 
suggestions  for  the  apparent  comfort  of  the  patient.  He 
held  out  no  hope  of  my  lord's  ultimate  recovery,  and 
though  he  did  not  say  so  in  so  many  words,  I  could  see 
he  thought  the  case  beyond  recovery. 

I  sat  with  my  lord  during  the  entire  morning  and  after- 
noon, for  I  felt  that  now  a  new  duty  had  been  imparted 


i76  HERONFORD 

into  our  relationship,  and  I  was  jealous  that  anyone 
should  take  the  place  which  I  felt  to  be  imperatively 
mine.  Madam  Cassilis  had  shown  a  good  deal  of  con- 
cern— more  than  I  could  have  expected — and  had  proved 
herself  of  great  use  in  the  sick-room  in  our  early  trepi- 
dation and  confusion  ;  but  she  had  not  ventured  in  any 
way  to  interfere  with  me,  nor  had  she  shown  any  desire 
to  usurp  my  place.  I  think  her  grave  anxiety  for  her 
brother  had  for  the  time  banished  all  lesser  consider- 
ations, and  it  was  not  until  the  evening  that  she  found 
time  to  make  clear  her  feelings  toward  myself  and  her 
view  of  the  general  situation. 

I  had  been  able  to  find  a  very  excellent  nurse,  and  I 
was  engaged  in  giving  her  some  trivial  directions,  when 
Madam  Cassilis  came  softly  into  the  room  and  waited 
with  perfect  composure  until  I  had  finished. 

"  I  should  like  to  speak  with  you,  Mr.  Cassilis,  on  an 
important  matter  if  you  can  spare  the  time,"  she  said 
coldly  and  with  a  glance  at  the  sick-bed.  "  Lord  Heron- 
ford  is  still  unconscious  and  does  not  seem  to  have  moved." 

"  He  is  still  unconscious,"  I  answered  gravely,  for  I 
saw  the  look  that  was  not  at  variance  with  the  tones  of 
her  voice  ; ' "  and  I  am  quite  at  your  disposal." 

She  made  no  reply  and  I  followed  her  out  of  the 
chamber.  She  did  not  speak  till  she  reached  the  room 
she  used  as  a  boudoir,  and  which  I  had  never  been  in 
but  once  or  twice  a  long  time  before.  She  threw  open 
the  door  and  entered,  turning  up  the  lamp  which  was 
burning  on  the  table. 

"  Close  the  door,"  she  said  sharply,  and  turning  round 
with  swift  decision  j  "  I  have  a  good  deal  to  say  to  you." 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE       177 

I  obeyed  without  saying  a  word,  wondering  upon  what 
ground  and  for  what  cause  she  intended  to  do  battle  with 
me,  and  now  resolutely  determined  in  so  far  as  I  was  able 
to  allow  her  to  have  her  own  way.  Since  the  revelation 
of  the  previous  night  I  had  acquired  in  a  way  not  very 
explicable  a  new  self-respect,  which  rendered  me  more 
enduring  and  patient.  With  my  new  knowledge  I  could 
not  help  feeling  some  sympathy  toward  her ;  her  attitude 
was  feminine  and  natural ;  and  it  was  only  just  that  she 
should  imagine  my  government  of  the  sick-room  to  be  a 
usurpation  of  her  own  right  and  inheritance. 

"  You  are  aware,  Mr.  Cassilis,  that  there  is  no  hope 
my  brother  should  recover.  In  case  he  dies  I  suppose 
you  have  formed  some  plans  about  your  future  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  yet  lost  all  hope,"  I  answered.  "  There 
is  plenty  of  time  to  think  about  the  future." 

"You  have  sense  enough  to  see — you  were  never 
wanting  in  sense — that  his  death  will  alter  your  posi- 
tion." 

"  It  must  necessarily  make  a  considerable  number  of 
changes.  But  I  still  cling  to  hope." 

"  You  know  very  well  what  I  mean.  I  have  no  desire 
to  hurt  your  feelings,  but  you  cannot  then  remain  in  this 
house.  My  brother  had  reasons  for  treating  you  as  a 
member  of  his  family,  and  perhaps  for  holding  you  before 
them  all.  But  on  his  death  you  will  be  a  stranger  and 
less  than  a  stranger,  and  you  can  understand  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  tolerate  you  here.  Your — your  rela- 
tionship to  the  family  would  entirely  prevent  that.  I 
think  it  is  not  unlikely  my  brother  may  have  made  some 
provision  for  you,  but  if  that  should  not  have  been  the 


178  HERONFORD 

case  I — well — I  can  spare  you  enough  to  push  your  for- 
tunes respectably  abroad." 

"  You  are  very  good,"  I  said,  thinking  what  an  ocean 
of  surprises  lay  before  her,  "  but  I  have  reason  to  know 
that  provision  has  been  made  for  my  future.  Lord 
Heronford  has  given  me  to  understand  as  much." 

"  I  might  have  known  that,"  she  answered  sharply ; 
14  unlike  my  brother  William,  you  were  always  wise  in 
your  generation.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  hard  upon  you,  but 
you  know  what  I  think  of  you.  You  came  between  my 
brothers ;  you  came  between  my  brother  and  me,  and 
robbed  me  of  his  confidence.  I  have  had  more  reasons 
than  one  to  regret  you  ever  came  into  this  house " 

"  I  could  not  help  my  birth,  madam " 

"  Your  birth  !  "  she  cried  scornfully ;  "  you  had  no 
birth." 

"  I  had  at  least  the  misfortune  to  be  born,"  I  answered, 
smiling  gravely. 

"  It  was  a  grave  misfortune  for  all  concerned — for  my 
brother,  for  me,  and  for  yourself,  if  you  do  not  change 
your  mind  and  habits.  You  are  not  used  to  be  blind  in 
other  things,  but  you  never  seem  to  have  known  your 
true  position  in  this  house  and  in  the  world." 

"  It  is  not  very  long  since  I  have  learned." 

"  Ah  !  you  have  learned.  I  hope  it  has  taught  you 
humility." 

"It  has  taught  me  that  among  other  lessons;  I  hope  it 
will  also  teach  me  to  practice  justice  and  to  show  kind- 
ness." 

She  seemed  to  think  there  was  an  implied  rebuke  in 
my  words,  as,  indeed,  perhaps  there  was. 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE       179 

"You  were  always  a  saint  and  martyr,"  she  said  scorn- 
fully. "  I  have  sometimes  wondered  where  the  Heron- 
ford  blood  came  in.  Perhaps " 

"  Perhaps,  madam  ?  " 

"  No.  We  will  not  quarrel.  My  brother  was  satisfied, 
and  there  was  a  time  when  he  knew  his  own  business. 
I  merely  wished  to  warn  you  that  when  he  died  you  must 
prepare  to  leave  Heronford  at  once.  You  had  better 
make  your  preparations,  for  I  do  not  wish  to  seem  to 
deal  too  harshly  with  you." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  I  answered,  "  I  am  not  in  a  position 
to  appreciate  your  kindness.  But  I  think  I  will  wait." 

"  You  think  you  can  set  up  your  will  against  a  de- 
fenceless woman  ?  Very  well,  we  shall  see.  If  my 
brother  William  were  alive " 

"  I  have  had  one  friend  all  my  life,"  I  interrupted 
gravely,  "  and  you  may  be  certain  I  shall  endeavour  to 
carry  out  his  wishes.  I  am  sure  I  know  his  mind." 

"  Take  your  own  course,"  she  said,  "  you  know  what 
is  likely  to  happen,  and  you  cannot  blame  me.  I  will  not 
call  the  servants  to  put  you  out,  but  there  is  one  thing 
on  which  I  will  insist  so  long  as  you  remain  under  this 
roof." 

"  And  that,  madam  ?  " 

"  You  shall  not  enter  my  brother's  room.  That  is  my 
place,  and  you  have  no  more  right  or  business  there  than 
one  of  the  grooms  from  the  stable.  It  is  monstrous ;  it 
is  wicked  to  think  that  you  of  all  the  people  in  the  world 
should  stand  at  his  death-bed." 

For  the  first  time  I  was  pained  by  her  speech,  and  I 
knew  that  upon  this  ground,  at  least,  I  was  largely,  if 


i8o  HERONFORD 

not  altogether,  in  her  power.  If  she  had  been  anxious  to 
wound  me,  and  yet  I  am  not  sure  that  that  was  really  her 
purpose,  she  could  not  have  adopted  any  more  effective 
means. 

"  You  surely  do  not  mean  that  ?  "  I  said. 

"  I  will  take  means  to  prevent  it.  Is  it  a  fitting  thing 
that  the  memory  of  a  man's  sin — oh  !  I  can  speak  plainly, 
Mr.  Cassilis — should  stand  at  his  bedside  when  he  is 
dying  ?  And  what  are  you  but  that  memory  ?  For  the 
time,  at  least,  I  am  mistress  here,  and  I  will  not  have  it." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  I  said,  "  I  cannot  make  you  understand, 
but  surely  love  gives  me  the  right  which  you  deny  me. 
Lord  Heronford  loved  me  like  a  son." 

"  And  I  loved  my  brother,  sir ;  I  was  proud  of  him  ;  I 
hoped  for  a  great  career  for  him,  and  he  wasted  his  life 
miserably  among  shadows.  His  conscience  was  too 
tender,  and  I  am  certain — I  am  certain — it  was  you  who 
played  the  part  of  ghost.  A  pretty  ghost !  It  was  you 
who  wrecked  his  life ;  he  cried  over  you  like  a  woman 
crying  over  her — faugh  !  I  have  had  enough  of  this  dis- 
grace, and  will  now  have  matters  in  my  own  way,  when 
it  is  too  late." 

"  I  cannot  oppose  you,  but  you  will  regret  the  step  you 
intend  to  take." 

"  At  any  rate  I  will  not  discuss  my  regrets  with  you, 
Mr.  Cassilis.  I  shall  endeavour  to  choose  another  con- 
fidant, and  you  now  know  my  wishes.  I  think  we  have 
finished.  You  can  go." 

And  in  this  way  I  was  dismissed  without  being  able  to 
make  any  further  protest.  Though  I  had  been  treated, 
as  I  felt,  with  great  injustice  and  want  of  consideration,  I 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE       181 

must  admit  that  I  was  rather  grieved  than  angry.  I  was 
able  to  put  myself  in  madam's  place,  and  I  could  not  but 
feel  she  was  able  to  justify  herself  in  taking  the  course 
she  had  adopted.  Having  no  suspicion  of  my  real  place 
in  the  house,  she  had  looked  upon  my  presence  so  long 
as  I  could  remember  as  an  insult  to  herself  and  a  dis- 
graceful incumbrance  upon  my  lord,  and  I  am  sure  she 
had  imagined  my  influence  had  been  a  hostile  one,  and 
had  helped  to  shut  her  out  from  her  brother's  sympathy. 
With  no  clue  in  her  hands  to  account  for  my  lord's 
actions,  she  had  watched  our  growing  familiarity  with 
pain  and  disgust,  and  had  now  taken  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity of  manifesting  her  feelings. 

I  went  down  to  the  Book  Room  and  tried  to  lose  my- 
self over  a  volume  that  I  took  up,  but  I  could  not  read. 
My  feelings  were  too  much  moved,  my  thoughts  too 
clamorous. 

There  was  no  book  in  the  world  at  this  moment  had 
grip  enough  to  hold  my  mind.  My  lord  was  dying !  In 
that  room  looking  out  over  the  lonely  sea  and  cheerless 
downs  the  curtain  was  falling  upon  the  last  scene  of  an- 
other tragedy.  For  twenty  years  the  dead  hand  had 
guided  the  living  spirit,  and  now  it  was  all  nearly  over. 
The  grey  evening  of  a  grey  life  was  settling  into  night. 
Another  man  might  have  risen  and  defied  himself  and  the 
world,  and  drunk  the  cup  of  life  with  its  coarse  and  vital 
pleasures  to  the  end,  but  my  lord's  nature  had  not  the 
strength  for  this.  A  certain  tenderness,  a  weakness  of 
will,  a  want  of  robust  and  virile  strength,  had  left  him  a 
prey  to  his  fears,  and  his  strong  emotions,  finding  no  out- 
let in  his  life,  had  lain  hidden  in  his  bosom,  gnawing  and 


1 82  HERONFORD 

stinging  there.  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  that  life  of 
broken  purposes,  humbled  pride,  and  solitary  conflict. 

I  was  so  agitated  that  I  rose  and  walked  up  and  down 
the  room,  shaken  by  the  storm  of  emotions  my  train  of 
thought  had  raised  in  me,  and  after  a  while  my  eye  chanced 
to  light  on  the  escritoire  at  the  end  of  the  apartment.  I 
suddenly  stopped,  overtaken  by  a  temptation  that  in  the 
end  I  found  irresistible.  I  could  not  help  myself;  I 
yielded  almost  with  a  sense  of  shame.  I  had  my  lord's 
word  that  the  proofs  were  here  upon  which  my  whole  fu- 
ture depended — my  honour,  my  name,  my  inheritance, 
my  whole  future  life.  I  did  not  doubt  his  word — not  for 
an  instant — but  I  knew  his  careless  habit  in  regard  to 
papers,  and  I  knew  that  if  one  simple  link  were  missing 
the  whole  chain  of  proof  was  broken.  If  he  were  mistaken 
— if  he  had  overlooked  some  vital  point,  I  could  find  no 
means  of  repairing  that,  and  there  was  a  sudden  end  to 
my  cherished  hopes. 

The  fear  grew  upon  me  as  I  stood  swaying,  and,  as  I 
say,  in  the  end  I  yielded  to  the  impulse.  But  it  was  al- 
most with  a  sense  that  I  was  violating  his  confidence  that  I 
fitted  the  key  into  the  lock  and  opened  the  drawer.  It 
was  with  the  sense  that  I  was  guilty  almost  of  sacrilege 
that  I  untied  the  ribbon  that  bound  them  and  spread  the 
papers  before  me.  The  secret  of  a  man's  life  that  he  had 
guarded  fearfully  from  the  world  !  I  sometimes  even 
now  wonder  whether  I  was  wrong  in  doing  what  I  did, 
and  even  now  I  have  not  solved  the  doubt.  My  lord 
had  desired  the  papers  should  remain  undisturbed  till  his 
death,  though  not  in  so  many  words,  but  I  knew  that  that 
was  his  wish.  And  yet,  upon  the  other  hand,  a  great  wrong 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE       183 

might  be  inflicted  which  he  most  of  all  would  have  re- 
gretted, and  if  a  portion  of  the  chain  of  evidence  were 
wanting  it  might  still  be  repaired  should  he  regain  con- 
sciousness. And  above  all  I  alone  should  see  them,  to 
whom  they  would  tell  no  new  story  and  who  already 
knew  their  history. 

I  entirely  forgot  myself  in  the  perusal ;  I  forgot  my 
doubts  and  scruples,  and  sat,  absorbed  in  the  recital  of  the 
pitiful  narrative.  In  one  thing  I  had  been  quite  wrong. 
However  careless  my  lord  had  been  in  other  matters,  here 
he  had  been  rigorously  exact.  He  had  forgotten  nothing  ; 
he  had  omitted  nothing.  There  was  no  flaw  in  the  proofs. 
They  admitted  of  no  doubt,  and  were  clear  and  intelligi- 
ble to  a  degree.  He  had  taken  pains  that  there  should  be 
no  difficulty  regarding  them,  and  upon  the  wrapper  that 
enclosed  them  was  written  in  his  fine,  legible  hand  the 
words,  The  Confession  of  Richard  Cassilis,  Lord  Heronford, 
with  the  date.  The  documents  were  arranged  in  their  or- 
der. There  was  first  the  certificate  of  marriage,  which 
set  out  that  Richard  Cassilis  was  married  to  Gertrude 
Wiltshire,  in  the  parish  church  of  Soame,  in  the  county 
of  Herts,  and  was  signed  by  James  Dempster,  vicar  of  the 
said  parish.  There  was  a  number  of  letters  from  the  young 
wife  that  were  very  painful  to  read,  and  which  spoke  of  her 
husband's  desertion,  and  her  fears  for  the  child  of  which 
she  was  about  to  become  the  mother;  and  immediately 
after  followed  the  certificate  of  the  baptism  of  this  child, 
which  took  place  at  the  parish  church  of  Chelsea.  I  found 
the  letter  which  the  late  Lord  Heronford  wrote  to  his  son, 
and  which  showed  that  he  was  in  entire  possession  of  all 
the  facts.  I  could  almost  hear  the  old  lord  speak  as  I 


184  HERONFORD 

read  it.  A  Cassilis,  he  wrote,  might  be  mad,  but  he  always 
went  to  the  devil  like  a  gentleman.  He  had  never  heard  of 
any  that  had  been  hanged,  but  it  seemed  that  his  son  was 
about  to  bring  the  fashion  into  the  family.  Nothing  would 
give  him  greater  pleasure  if  it  could  be  done  without  the 
world  knowing  it.  Bigamy  was  a  novel  crime  in  the  an- 
nals of  Heronford,  and  his  son  had  added  graces  to  the  act 
none  but  himself  could  attain  to.  He  had  betrayed  an  an- 
gel, who  had  the  bad  taste  still  to  love  him,  villain  as  he 
was,  and  the  writer  ended  by  saying  that  it  would  be  his  care 
to  provide  for  the  future  Lady  Heronford  and  her  son. 

But  the  paper  which  most  interested  me  was  the  dec- 
laration of  my  lord  himself,  which  had  been  written  out 
at  great  length  and  apparently  not  very  many  weeks  be- 
fore. It  had  been  written  with  great  care,  for  there  were 
many  erasures  and  interlineations,  and  certainly  with  no 
intention  of  sparing  himself  or  of  extenuating  his  conduct. 
The  facts  were  nearly  all  as  I  had  already  supposed  them 
to  be. 

He  began  by  stating  that  it  was  while  he  had  been  on  a 
visit  to  Sir  Onslow  Gresham  at  his  country  place  in 
Hampshire  that  he  had  first  met  my  mother.  Her  father, 
who  had  been  a  retired  captain  of  foot,  had  recently  died, 
and  she  was  at  that  time  residing  with  an  aunt  in  very 
straitened  circumstances.  At  first  he  had  looked  upon  it 
merely  as  the  case  of  a  rustic  beauty  and  her  town  ad- 
mirer, and  had  hoped  for  an  easy  conquest,  but  he  found 
himself  altogether  mistaken,  and  in  proportion  as  the  lady 
repulsed  his  careless  advances  he  fell  more  and  more  deeply 
in  love  with  her  innocence  and  beauty,  until  at  last  he  was 
prepared  to  make  any  sacrifice  and  at  any  cost.  But  un- 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE       185 

der  the  circumstances  an  open  marriage  was  impossible. 
At  the  first  intimation  of  such  a  step  his  creditors  would 
have  pressed  their  claims,  and  his  father  would  at  once 
have  ceased  to  furnish  him  with  supplies.  Nor  did  he 
fail  to  add  that  shame  and  fear  of  ridicule  had  a  share  in 
persuading  him  to  the  course  he  adopted. 

A  secret  marriage  was  resolved  upon,  and  when  my 
mother  left  her  home  it  was  believed  by  her  friends  she 
had  fallen  a  victim  to  the  advances  of  an  unscrupulous 
lover.  No  one  knew  or  suspected  the  real  state  of  affairs. 
The  only  witnesses  to  the  marriage  were  the  verger  and 
his  daughter,  whom  Lord  Heronford  believed  to  be  still 
alive.  From  that  day  my  mother  never  saw  nor  com- 
municated with  her  friends  again,  and  followed  her  hus- 
band to  London,  where  she  remained  in  perfect  retire- 
ment. Then  followed  the  usual  course  of  such  unhappy 
marriages.  If  the  young  husband  was  not  soon  tired  of 
his  wife  he  was  not  long  in  seeing  at  what  cost  he  had 
gained  her,  and  the  allurements  of  his  old  life  irresistibly 
drew  him  back  within  their  vortex.  I  do  not  think  he 
had  at  first  any  deliberate  intention  of  abandoning  her 
and  of  denying  this  marriage,  but  for  some  months  he 
only  visited  her  rarely,  and  at  last  suggested  she  should 
return  to  her  friends. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  how  matters  might  have  ulti- 
mately resolved  themselves,  but  the  crisis  was  accelerated 
by  one  evening's  play.  Already  nearly  bankrupt  by  his 
extravagance  the  misguided  young  man  one  unlucky  night 
rose  from  the  card-table  with  a  loss  of  twelve  thousand 
pounds,  which  he  had  absolutely  no  means  of  discharg- 
ing. His  friends  knew  his  condition ;  the  most  disgrace- 


i86  HERONFORD 

ful  form  of  ruin  stared  him  in  the  face  ;  his  resources 
were  at  an  end;  his  credit  was  exhausted.  And  just  at 
this  time  an  unfortunate  providence  stepped  in  to  assist 
him.  Mrs.  Carteret  had  recently  lost  her  husband,  who 
had  left  her  the  bulk  of  his  fortune.  Before  her  first 
marriage,  which  had  lasted  only  three  years,  she  had  had 
a  tenderness  for  my  lord,  and  even  during  her  married 
life  had  remained  upon  very  friendly  terms  with  him.  At 
this  juncture  in  his  affairs  she  wrote  him  the  letter  of  a 
woman  whose  heart  has  taken  possession  of  her  judg- 
ment— a  letter  in  which  she  laid  her  hand  and  fortune  at 
his  disposal.  The  temptation  was  too  great  for  the 
already-drowning  man.  The  irretrievable  step  was  taken, 
and  they  were  married  within  a  fortnight. 

It  was  not  till  nearly  a  month  afterwards  that  my  lord 
saw  the  young  wife  whom  he  had  forsaken.  He  made 
no  attempt  at  disguising  his  conduct;  he  threw  himself 
upon  her  mercy  and  declared  that  his  life  was  in  her 
hands,  which  was,  indeed,  the  case.  The  interview  must 
have  been  a  very  painful  one,  and  it  was  the  last  time 
they  met.  It  was  only  after  the  birth  of  her  child  that 
my  mother  was  impelled  to  take  the  decisive  step  which 
led  her  to  Heronford,  and  it  was  perhaps  the  wisest  step 
she  could  have  taken.  But  her  heart  was  broken,  and  I 
do  not  think  she  was  ever  happy  again.  It  was  a  fortu- 
nate thing  that  Mrs.  Carteret — she  was  never  Mrs.  Cas- 
silis — died  a  few  years  afterwards  without  leaving  any 
family,  and  had  it  not  been  for  myself  there  was  left  no 
memorial  of  this  crime  which  had  wrecked  two  lives. 

In  the  margin  there  was  a  note  which  explained  a 
matter  that  I  had  never  been  able  to  understand.  Before 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE       187 

the  death  of  his  second  wife  my  lord  had  made  a  restitu- 
tion of  that  portion  of  her  fortune  which  had  come  into 
his  hands,  and  the  sacrifices  he  had  made  to  achieve  this 
had  contributed  largely  to  his  present  embarrassments. 
The  one  desire  now  remaining  to  him  was  that  his  son 
might  have  a  happier  life  and  a  more  prosperous  lot  than 
had  fallen  to  his  father.  He  had  done  him  a  wrong  for 
which  he  could  never  forgive  himself,  and  he  now  left 
himself  with  his  sins  and  follies  in  the  hands  of  the  great 
Judge  Who  sees  the  hearts  of  all  men,  and  measures  out 
their  portion  of  reward  with  justice  and  mercy. 

There  were  some  other  letters,  carefully  marked  and 
numbered,  which  formed  a  running  commentary  upon 
the  narrative,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  had  finished 
their  perusal.  When  I  had  done  I  tied  them  up  once 
more  as  I  had  found  them  and  restored  them  to  their 
place  in  the  drawer  of  the  cabinet,  which  I  locked,  and 
then  withdrew  the  key. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM 

MR.  WESTON'S  visits  and  insinuations  were  not  long 
in  bearing  fruit.  Captain  Blythe  was  perceptibly  troubled 
in  his  mind,  and  met  me  with  far  less  of  his  boisterous 
frankness  than  he  had  ever  before  exhibited. 

Though  there  was  no  failure  of  kindness  upon  his  part, 
I  felt  that  our  intercourse  was  to  some  extent  strained,  and 
that  there  was  something  upon  his  mind  of  which  he  felt 
himself  ashamed.  This  was  not  so  manifest  that  it  gave 
me  ground  for  asking  for  an  explanation,  but  I  felt  that  a 
barrier  of  suspicion  and  restraint  was  growing  up  between 
us  at  which  he  chafed  as  much  as  myself.  Mr.  Weston's 
visits  were  now  of  daily  occurrence,  and  were  so  timed 
that  we  never  met.  But  it  was  perfectly  evident  to  me 
the  course  which  he  was  pursuing.  He  had  ceased  to 
annoy  Victory  with  his  importunities  and,  instead,  was 
making  court  to  her  father,  who  had  conceived  an  ad- 
miration for  what  he  considered  to  be  his  outspoken  hon- 
esty and  rough  heartiness.  He  had  won  upon  him  com- 
pletely, and  I  felt  that  in  proportion  as  he  obtained  an 
ascendancy  over  him  I  was  declining  in  his  favour. 

I  was  sure  that  Mr.  Weston  had  managed  to  insinuate 
some  suspicion  in  regard  to  my  share  in  the  disappearance 
of  William  Cassilis,  and  by  hints  adroitly  dropped  had 
implied  that  that  had  been  carried  out  for  my  interest  and 
with  my  connivance.  I  did  not  know  what  he  had  said 
or  how  far  he  had  gone  in  making  this  charge,  but  the 
captain  was  the  least  suspicious  of  mortals,  and  it  must 

188 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  189 

have  taken  a  great  deal  to  alter  his  feeling  toward  me. 
Nor  could  I  quite  understand  the  attitude  that  Victory  had 
assumed.  She  had  formerly  shown  her  aversion  toward 
Weston  in  a  way  that  was  not  to  be  misunderstood,  but 
her  manner  had  now  become  frank  and  friendly  toward 
him,  and  she  had  ceased  to  make  him  the  object  of  her 
quiet  and  playful  wit.  She  had  entirely  lost  the  fears  she 
had  at  first  entertained  regarding  him,  and  went  so  far  as 
to  encourage  his  visits.  I  own  that  there  were  times  when 
I  imagined  her  conduct  was  the  result  of  waywardness  and 
coquetry,  but  even  then  I  never  doubted  her  fidelity  toward 
myself.  Sometimes,  also,  I  thought  I  detected  in  her  an 
increased  seriousness  that  was  quite  new  to  her,  and  this 
especially  after  Lord  Heronford  had  been  struck  down. 

Her  father  had  entirely  ceased  to  make  enquiries  after  my 
lord  and  would  change  the  subject  in  an  awkward  manner 
when  his  name  was  mentioned,  but  Victory  showed  a 
quickened  curiosity,  and  returned  to  the  subject  again  and 
again.  I  was  not  in  the  least  afraid  that  Mr.  Weston 
might  injure  me  in  her  esteem  or  supplant  me  in  her  af- 
fection, but  I  honestly  own  that  I  was  jealous  when  I 
saw  that  he  was  rapidly  taking  my  place  with  Captain 
Blythe,  and  I  more  than  once  made  my  complaint  to 
Victory  about  it.  But  it  seemed  to  afford  her  amuse- 
ment, and  she  only  smiled  when  I  expressed  my  fears. 
"  The  compass  is  out  of  order,  Jack,  and  my  father  is 
only  waiting  till  it  points  north  again.  Have  a  little  pa- 
tience ;  I  am  sure  it  is  coming  round.  You  see  he  is  so 
honest  himself  that  he  thinks  no  one  can  be  a  rogue,  and 
he  cannot  understand  Mr.  Weston's  stories.  I  know  he 
is  more  unhappy  than  yourself." 


i9o  HERONFORD 

I  found  the  captain  in  a  very  ill  temper  and  complaining 
of  the  pain  in  his  timber  leg,  which  usually  troubled  him 
when  matters  were  not  going  to  his  mind.  It  was  evident 
that  he  was  not  overjoyed  to  see  me,  for  he  was  more  pro- 
fuse than  usual  in  his  greeting  and  more  pressing  in  his 
hospitality — the  manner  in  which  he  was  accustomed  to 
show  his  uneasiness.  When  I  sat  down  opposite  to  him 
he  was  not  very  sure  how  he  should  treat  me.  The  sus- 
picion he  had  begun  to  entertain  about  me  was  struggling 
visibly  with  his  old  affection,  and  after  wringing  my  hand 
very  warmly  he  had  suddenly  relinquished  it  as  though 
ashamed  of  his  warmth.  I  affected  at  first  not  to  see 
his  embarassment,  but  talked  vaguely  on  a  hundred  triv- 
ial topics,  until  at  last  I  determined  at  once  to  bring 
matters  to  an  issue  and  find  exactly  the  ground  of  differ- 
ence between  us. 

"  I  hope  I  am  wrong,  sir,"  I  said,  "  but  I  think  you 
are  not  pleased  to  see  me.  You  would  prefer  that  I 
stayed  away  altogether." 

"  God  bless  my  soul,  John  Cassilis,  what  makes  you 
think  that  ?  Has  the  little  baggage  been  talking  ?  Have 
I  said  anything  ?  Ay,  I'll  warrant  I  have,  for  I'm  a  bad- 
tempered  man  when  the  wind  is  between  east  and  north, 
and  it  never  blows  from  any  other  point  nowadays.  Or 
perhaps  it's  the  schnapps — I'll  give  up  the  schnapps  and 
try  a  larger  dose  of  tobacco.  You  shouldn't  mind  what 
a  one-legged  old  mariner  says  when  he  gets  into  the  dol- 
drums." 

"  It  is  not  what  you  have  said,  sir,"  I  answered.  "  It 
is  what  you  have  not  said." 

"  Then  I  can't  please  you  any  way,  my  lad.     You  are 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  191 

worse  than  my  old  lieutenant  in  the  Hecate ;  he  couldn't 
sleep  afloat,  for  he  wanted  a  four-poster,  and  he  couldn't 
sleep  ashore,  for  he  wanted  a  hammock,  and  between  the 
two  it  was  twelve  years  since  he  closed  his  eyes." 

"  I  used  to  think  you  were  my  very  good  friend,  sir." 

"  And  you  thought  rightly,  but  it  doesn't  always  blow 
a  twelve-knot  breeze,  and,  egad,  John,  I  am  just  now  in 
a  flat  calm,  and  that's  the  truth." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  is  wrong  ?  " 

The  captain  rose  from  his  seat  and,  hobbling  to  the 
mantel-shelf,  reached  for  his  tobacco-pipe.  This  was 
always  a  sign  of  mental  agitation  with  him,  and  I  knew 
that  he  was  endeavouring  to  make  up  his  mind  to  say 
something  which  he  thought  might  give  me  pain.  He 
turned  sharply  round  and  looked  at  me  gravely. 

"  I'm  a  dismasted  old  fool,"  he  said,  "  and  you  are 
worse  than  I  am  to  heed  me.  Let  us  go  on  as  we  have 
been  going,  and  we'll  fetch  port  at  last  somehow  with 
the  help  of  God." 

"You  are  trying  to  spare  my  feelings,"  I  answered, 
"  but  I  should  like  to  get  back  to  our  old  footing  as  soon 
as  we  can.  Captain  Blythe,  I  know  very  well  what  is 
the  matter.  You  have  been  listening  to  stories  about  me, 
and  you  are  not  willing  to  tell  me  what  you  have  heard." 

"  Stories,  my  lad  ?  " 

"  Stories,  sir,  grave  calumnies,  lying  slanders.  I  know 
what  the  world  has  been  saying  in  general,  and  your 
friend  Mr.  Weston  in  particular." 

"  Now  that  I  think  of  it,"  said  the  captain,  with  a 
futile  attempt  at  diplomatic  evasion,  u  I  have  heard  some- 
thing, but " 


i92  HERONFORD 

"  And  you  believe  it  ?  " 

"  Believe  it !  "  cried  the  captain  excitedly,  and  I  think 
he  was  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  losing  his  temper. 
"  Believe  it !  Before  God,  sir,  I  am  a  gentleman,  an 
officer,  a  man  of  honour.  Had  I  believed  it  do  you  think 
I  would  have  admitted  you  into  my  house,  shaken  you 
by  the  hand,  permitted  you  to  speak  a  word  to  my  little 
girl  who  imagines,  like  every  woman  who  ever  wore  a 
petticoat,  that  the  sun  rises  and  sets  on  the  man  she  wants 
to  marry  ?  By  heaven  !  sir,  you  do  not  think  I  have  so 
far  lost  my  self-respect,  and  forgotten  what  I  owe  to  my- 
self and  the  service  ?  Yes,  sir,  I  have  heard  stories,  but 
I  don't  turn  my  back  on  my  friends  because  the  world  is 
talking,  and  I  don't  believe  them  guilty  because  the  old 
wives  are  wagging  their  tongues." 

"  At  least  I  am  glad  you  do  not  think  me  guilty,"  I  said. 

"  I  wouldn't,"  said  the  captain,  "  believe  the  verdict 
of  any  twelve  men  between  this  and  the  town  of  Ply- 
mouth. But  it  is  not  that.  I  am  in  swithers,  John,  and 
that  is  the  truth  of  it." 

"  In  what  way,  sir  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  'tis  one  thing  to  believe  a  man  guilty ; 
'tis  another  thing  to  prove  him  innocent.  If  it  were  only 
a  matter  of  friendship,  do  you  see,  I  would  double  shot 
my  guns,  run  up  my  ensign,  and  clear  my  decks  for  a  close 
engagement.  But  there  is  something  more  than  that.  I 
must  think  of  the  little  woman — of  her  before  every- 
thing. She  must  not  marry  a  man  who  can't  hold  up  his 
head  before  all  the  world  with  a  name  as  clean  and  sweet  as 
her  heart.  I  don't  mind  your  birth  the  value  of  a  straw 
— a  good  man  is  better  than  an  earl ;  I  don't  mind  that 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  193 

you  should  be  poor,  but  dam'me,  John,  I  do  mind  that  the 
world  should  be  able  to  talk  about  Victory's  husband." 

"  Then  the  world  is  a  liar,  Captain  Blythe,"  I  cried 
hotly  ;  "  I  care  nothing  for  the  world." 

"  Nor  I,  my  lad — not  the  value  of  a  straw,  nor  does  any 
man  who  is  worth  his  rating,  but  a  woman  is  different. 
Now  what  has  become  of  William  Cassilis  ?  Tell  me 
that." 

"  I  wish  to  God  I  knew,"  I  answered. 

"  Is  he  alive  or  dead  ?     What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  believe  that  he  is  dead." 

"  Then  you  have  some  reason  for  thinking  that  ?  You 
know  what  people  are  saying,  and  what  they  will  go  on 
saying  till  we  come  to  the  truth.  I  liked  Lord  Heron- 
ford  myself,  but  Weston  says " 

"  Mr.  Weston  has  concerned  himself  a  good  deal  about 
the  matter.  I  should  like  to  know  what  Mr.  Weston  says." 

"  Oh  !  you  must  not  quarrel  with  Weston,  he  is  a  good- 
natured,  honest  fellow  who  can  keep  his  mind  to  himself, 
and  is  very  friendly  toward  yourself.  And — and  to  tell 
you  the  truth,  John,  I  promised  in  a  way  that  I  would 
not  discuss  the  matter  with  you  or  mention  his  name  one 
way  or  other.  He  did  not  want  to  hurt  your  feelings." 

"  He  is  very  careful  of  my  feelings,"  I  answered  bitterly ; 
"  but  he  has  managed  to  poison  you  against  me  at  any  rate. 
And  I  am  powerless,  sir.  This  abominable  lie  I  can  meet 
nowhere  face  to  face.  I  can  find  no  one  who  will  openly 
accuse  me ;  I  can  find  no  one  evert  to  tell  me  with  what 
I  am  charged.  I  had  no  grudge  against  William  Cassilis ; 
I  had  nothing  to  do  with  his  death,  and  I  had  neither 
hand  nor  part  in  it.  You  believe  that,  sir  ?  " 


I94  HERONFORD 

"  As  I  believe  in  my  own  existence,  my  lad.    But " 

"  But  what,  sir  ?  " 

"  They  say  you  had  something  to  gain  by  his  death, 
and  that  Lord  Heronford  and  his  brother  were  on  the 
worst  of  terms." 

"  I  had  nothing  to  gain  by  his  removal,"  I  answered, 
"  as  you  yourself  will  discover,  and  Lord  Heronford  is 
now  lying  at  the  point  of  death  and  is  unable  to  answer 
for  himself." 

"  It  is  all  a  tangle,"  said  the  captain  despairingly, "  and 
from  my  heart  I  am  sorry  for  you,  John.  But " 

"  You  have  had  enough  of  me,  sir." 

"  That's  not  fair,  lad,  and  you  know  it.  Enough  of 
you  !  I  would  give  my  right  hand  to  see  you  again  with 
a  clear  course  and  a  soldier's  wind.  If  it  were  not  for 
what  Weston  said —  There — there — I  am  talking  again, 
and  upon  my  word  I  don't  think  he  said  anything  after 
all.  But  you  must  find  William  Cassilis,  alive  or  dead." 

"  And  in  the  meantime  you  would  prefer  that  I  did  not 
come  to  Carnforth  ?  I  know  you  don't  want  to  hurt  me." 

"  No,  no.  Come  with  a  thousand  welcomes ;  I  am 
always  glad  to  see  your  face.  But — you  know  I  am  a 
plain  man,  John — it  will  be  only  fair  to  Victory  that  you 
should  sail  off  a  little,  do  you  see,  till  things  come  right. 
We  both  love  you,  and  the  clouds  will  break,  never  fear." 

"  I  may  speak  to  Victory,  sir,  before  I  leave  ? " 

"  To  be  sure  you  may.  Tell  her  all  your  troubles,  and 
everything  I  said.  She  is  a  sensible  little  woman  and  will 
give  you  better  advice  than  I  could,  and,  John — don't  hurt 
her  more  than  you  can  help.  God  bless  me,  I  thought 
when  I  had  given  up  the  sea  I  had  done  with  trouble." 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  195 

The  captain  made  a  pretence  of  pulling  down  the  blind, 
upon  the  ground  that  the  sun  was  shining  too  strongly  for 
his  eyes,  but  I  could  see  that  he  was  a  good  deal  affected 
by  our  interview  and  would  willingly  bring  it  to  a  close. 
I  was  sure  that  he  had  not  said  all  that  he  had  at  first 
intended  to  say,  but  he  had  said  enough  to  show  me  that 
Mr.  Weston  had  to  some  extent  succeeded  in  turning  his 
stout  old  heart  against  me,  and  that  I  might  prepare  for  a 
still  greater  coldness  between  us.  It  was  so  unlike  him  to 
alter  his  views  upon  any  matter,  and  especially  to  change 
in  his  affections,  that  I  felt  a  stronger  argument  than  that 
of  mere  general  rumour  must  have  been  used  in  effecting 
this  alteration.  But  it  was  useless  to  question  him,  and 
at  the  moment  it  was  impossible  for  me  warmly  to  urge 
my  complete  innocence.  My  knowledge  made  me  feel 
that  I  was  almost  a  partner  in  the  deed,  and  robbed  my 
vindication  of  myself  of  much  of  its  force  and  warmth. 

When  I  left  him  I  found  Victory  waiting  in  the  garden 
with  her  hat  on  and  dressed  in  her  rough  walking-dress. 
She  had  not  been  present  at  any  time  during  my  inter- 
view with  the  captain,  and  I  was  not  sure  whether  I 
should  be  able  to  see  her  before  I  left.  But  she  had 
evidently  been  waiting  for  me  for  some  time,  and  was 
apparently  in  a  very  serious  mood. 

"  I  know  what  you  have  been  talking  about,"  she  said. 
"  And  I  am  going  to  walk  with  you  to  the  top  of  the 
downs." 

u  Then  you  are  not  yet  ashamed  to  be  seen  walking 
with  me  ? " 

"  John  ! " 

"  Oh  !  I  am  quite  serious,  Victory.  Your  father  thinks 


196  HERONFORD 

— I  do  not  know  what  he  thinks — but  he  told  me  almost 
in  so  many  words  that  I  was  not  fit  to  be  your  lover." 

"  My  father  is  a  dear  old — goose,  John,  but  there  is 
not  another  gentleman  like  him  in  the  world." 

"  I  am  sure  there  is  not,"  I  answered  heartily, "  though 
he  has  almost  ceased  to  be  my  friend." 

"  I  am  sure  he  did  not  tell  you  that.  I  know  in  his 
heart  he  loves  you  like  a  son  ;  if  he  pained  you,  he  pained 
himself  as  much,  and  what  is  more,  he  did  it  for  your 
good." 

"  Would  it  be  good  for  me  that  I  should  lose  you  ?  " 

"  Well — perhaps,  but  you  have  not  lost  me  yet.  Oh  ! 
you  will  not  get  rid  of  me  so  easily,  and  then,  being  only 
a  woman,  I  do  not  think  I  could  give  you  up,  even  for 
your  good." 

"  At  least  you  do  not  believe  these  stories  ?  " 

"  When  a  woman  has  given  her  heart  to  a  man  she  is 
ready  to  believe  all  the  evil  she  hears  about  him.  You 
think  that,  John  ?  Then  you  don't  know  what  a  woman's 
heart  is  made  of." 

"  I  used  to  think  I  knew  your  heart." 

"  Oh  !  but  you  do  not.  I  hardly  know  myself.  When 
her  love  is  in  danger  it  wakens  the  savage  in  her  nature. 
She  is  ready  to  watch  and  plan  and  fight,  and  she  feels 
almost  that  she  could  lie  for  him.  I  haven't  done  that, 
but — almost." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  want  you  to  fight  for  me,"  I  said 
reproachfully. 

"And  if  I  did  not,  who  should  ?  You  think  I  am  a 
poor  fighter  ?  Well,  we  shall  see,  and  you — you  are  too 
proud  to  fight  for  yourself.  Now  do  not  speak  to  me, 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  197 

for  I  want  to  put  my  thoughts  in  order,  and  then  you 
Will  see  how  wise  I  am." 

She  trudged  along  by  my  side,  her  sweet  brows  puckered 
in  a  little  frown,  and  never  speaking  a  word.  We  walked 
along  the  wet  sand  together,  where  a  recent  gale  had 
scattered  patches  of  tangled  sea-weed,  and  then  climbed 
the  hill  until  we  reached  the  sea  of  purple  heather  that 
grew  upon  the  downs.  Here  upon  a  great  stone  she  sat 
down  and  made  a  place  for  me  beside  her. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  I  am  quite  ready  for  the  debate. 
And  before  we  begin  I  want  to  say  two  things." 

"  A  hundred,  if  you  please.     I  am  listening,  Victory." 

11  Firstly,  I  am  a  very  wise  woman  for  my  years,  and 
you  are  a  very  silly  fellow." 

"  Both  are  admitted,"  I  answered.  "  And  now  to  the 
next." 

"  Secondly,  I  should  like  you  to — kiss  me,  Jack." 

Her  sweet  red  lips  were  smiling,  but  her  eyes  were 
serious. 

"  That  is  your  way.  I  did  not  mean  that  you  should 
kiss  me  more  than  once.  But  at  any  rate  the  conference 
is  opened  and  we  can  proceed  to  business.  The  trouble 
has  come  that  I  looked  for,  John." 

"  Yes,  the  trouble  has  come,  but  I  know  that  I  could 
bear  more  than  this  with  you  by  my  side." 

"  I  do  not  want  you  to  bear  it ;  I  want  you  to  face  it 
and — overcome  it.  A  man  should  not  rest  on  his  inno- 
cence when  his  enemies  are  trying  to  injure  him." 

"  But  I  cannot  find  my  enemies,"  I  cried  despairingly. 
"  I  can  meet  no  one  who  will  tell  me  of  what  I  am  guilty. 
I  only  know  that  there  is  a  hideous  story  in  the  air.  It 


198  HERONFORD 

meets  me  everywhere,  but  only  by  insinuation.     It  has 
reached  your  father's  ears,  and  even  you  have  heard  it." 

"  I  could  not  help  hearing  it.  You  do  not  think  I 
would  have  listened  willingly.  Is  there  anything  you 
would  like  to  tell  me,  John  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  I  can  tell  you  but  that  I  am  wholly 
innocent." 

u  I  do  not  need  that  you  should  tell  me  that.  But  I 
have  been  thinking — night  and  day  I  have  been  thinking 
— since  I  first  heard  the  beginning  of  the  tale,  and  I  have 
been  piecing  so  many  things  together.  In  some  things 
I  may  be  wrong,  but  in  others  I  know  I  am  right.  You 
will  hear  by-and-bye  how  I  know,  but  love  is  a  wonderful 
prophet,  John,  and  I  can  see  now  the  whole  way  to  the  end." 

"  It  seems  to  me  to  be  a  very  long  way." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  not  so  far  as  you  think.  Now  let  me 
begin  at  the  beginning,  and  do  not  interrupt  me  till  I 
have  done.  Lord  Heronford  and  his  brother  have  been 
living  on  bad  terms  for  a  long  time — I  can't  help  your 
family  secrets — and  a  little  while  ago  there  was  a  great 
quarrel.  I  am  not  sure  what  it  was  about,  but  I  have  a 
suspicion.  But  that  does  not  matter.  Then  something 
dreadful  happened,  and  Mr.  William  Cassilis  disappeared. 
What  became  of  him  ?  Lord  Heronford  would  have 
liked  him  out  of  the  way,  and  John  Cassilis  was  Lord 
Heronford's  friend  and  confidant." 

"  Victory !  " 

"  Oh !  you  must  not  interrupt  me.     I  am  sure  Mr. 
William  Cassilis  was  a  very  bad  man,  and  you  did  not 
love  him  either.     On  the  night  he  disappeared  you  were 
at  Carnforth  till  nearly  twelve — you  see  I  remember,  and" 
have  been  weaving  the  threads — and  an  hour  afterwards 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  199 

there  were  three  people  on  the  cliffs.  Lord  Heronford, 
his  brother,  and  my  sweetheart,  John  Cassilis.  Were 
they  all  all  together  ?  I  think  not  at  first." 

"  In  God's  name,  Victory,"  I  groaned,  "  how  did  you 
find  this  out  ?  " 

"  Oh !  then  I  am  right,"  she  cried  with  animation,  "  I 
was  not  sure  that  you  were  there.  Now  what  hap- 
pened ?  Words  only  or  blows — blows,  I  am  sure,  for 
John  Cassilis  has  been  changed  ever  since,  and  Lord 
Heronford  had  reason  to  think  his  brother  was  dead.  He 
searched  for  his  body,  but  he  could  not  find  it.  Now 
why  could  he  not  find  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  an  awful  mystery,"  I  said. 

"We  are  still  travelling  on  the  dry  ground,"  she  cried. 
"  Oh  !  my  poor  John,  why  could  you  not  have  given  me 
your  confidence  ?  You  did  not  find  him  because  you 
did  not  search  in  the  right  place." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?     I  do  not  follow  you." 

"  Have  you  never  thought  there  might  have  been  a 
witness  ?  Have  you  never  wondered  how  the  story 
grew  ?  Have  you  never  asked  yourself  why  no  magis- 
trate —  Mr.  Weston  is  a  magistrate." 

"  You  are  torturing  me,  Victory.    Tell  me  everything." 

"  And  you  told  me  nothing.  Oh,  John  !  If  you  had 
told  me !  You  remember  Mr.  Weston's  hints — those 
little  sly  hints  that  cut  both  of  us  like  a  knife,  for  the 
story  was  growing  then,  and  I  had  heard  it.  I  thought 
at  first  it  was  all  false,  but  Mr.  Cassilis  did  not  come 
back,  you  had  changed,  and  the  story  grew  and  grew.  I 
told  you  that  a  woman  could  fight  for  her  lover  and 
could  almost  lie  for  him.  John,  I  have  lied  for  you,  and 
Mr.  Weston  thinks  that  I  love  him." 


200  HERONFORD 

She  laid  her  hand,  hot  and  trembling,  upon  mine. 

"Yes,"  she  cried,  "he  believes  I  love  him,  and  I  hate 
myself  when  I  think  of  it.  John,  I  have  allowed  him  to 
kiss  me  for  your  sake.  I  paid  the  price,  but  I  have  won 
the  game." 

I  looked  at  her  in  wonder. 

"  I  felt  that  it  was  he  who  had  first  set  the  story  in 
motion,  and  I  knew  that  he  was  holding  something  back. 
I  would  have  found  it  out  if  it  had  cost  my  life.  I  laid 
a  trap  for  him,  John,  and  he  fell  into  it ;  he  never  sus- 
pected me.  I  was  only  a  fickle  girl  who  had  found  a 
new  lover  and  discarded  her  old  one.  And  then  little  by 
little  he  told  me  the  tale,  and  oh  !  my  dear,  how  I  hated 
him  while  he  told  me.  I  felt  like  Judith  with  the  head 
of  Holofernes. 

"  His  servant  had  gone  that  night  to  Heronford  with  a 
letter  for  his  friend,  and  not  finding  him  at  home  was 
returning  by  way  of  Carnforth.  On  the  cliff  road  he 
heard  the  sound  of  quarrelling,  and  coming  quietly  along 
he  saw  Lord  Heronford  and  his  brother  and  someone  he 
thought  was  yourself.  At  first  he  was  not  sure,  but  in 
the  end  he  recognised  you.  He  did  not  know  who  struck 
the  first  blow,  but  in  the  end  William  Cassilis  was  driven 
to  the  verge,  and  with  one  cry  went  over.  Lord  Heron- 
ford  instantly  rushed  back  toward  Heronford,  but  you, 
the  cooler  villain,  waited  to  see  that  he  was  dead.  And 
Mr.  Weston  has  spared  you  for  my  sake,  John. 

"  The  servant  brought  the  story  to  his  master,  who  told 
him  he  was  dreaming  and  threatened  him  with  a  horse- 
whip. But  he  has  proved  a  better  friend  still,  for  he  has 
sent  the  man  out  of  the  country  where  no  one  will  be  able 
to  find  him,  but  not  before  the  fellow  had  time  to  tell  the 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  201 

tale  to  a  friend  in  the  stables.  But  Mr.  Weston  thinks 
nothing  can  be  done  now.  For  my  sake  he  has  refused  to 
take  any  steps  himself,  and  since  I  have  given  you  up  he  has 
no  enmity  against  you.  If  I  had  not  given  you  up " 

"If " 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  the  servant  would  have  come  back. 
You  see,  John,  the  matter  is  very  simple." 

"  But  it  is  a  tissue  of  lies  from  beginning  to  end. 
Victory,  I  must  tell  you  everything,  though  you  may  not 
believe  me." 

"  You  must  tell  me  nothing,"  she  cried  impetuously. 
"  When  I  gave  John  Cassilis  my  heart  I  gave  him  my  life 
and  my  faith.  Do  you  think  I  believed  this  or  any  story 
about  you  even  before  I  knew  it  was  a  lie  ?  Do  you 
think  I  did  not  see  that  Mr.  Weston  wanted  to  play 
upon  my  love  and  fear  for  you  ?  Do  you  think  I  would 
believe  anything  to  the  discredit  of  the  man  I  love  ? 
But  you  were  in  danger :  I  thought  I  might  help  you, 
and  I  know  I  have  helped  you." 

"  Your  faith  and  love  have  helped  me,"  I  said  gravely. 
"  But,  Victory,  you  cannot  understand  till  you  know  the 
truth.  Since  William  Cassilis  is  dead " 

"  How  do  you  know  that  he  is  dead  ?  " 

"  I  have  grave  reason  for  knowing  that  he  is  dead." 

"  And  I  have  excellent  reason  for  thinking  that  he  is 
alive." 

I  rose  to  my  feet  in  such  a  tumult  of  bewilderment  as 
kept  me  silent  for  a  minute.  She  was  so  confident ; 
there  was  such  a  dancing  look  in  her  eyes  and  triumphant 
smile  upon  her  lips  that  a  sudden  flash  of  hope  illumined 
my  heart.  I  would  have  given  the  world  to  be  assured 
of  the  truth  of  this. 


202  HERONFORD 

"  You  are  not  playing  with  me,  Victory  ?  "  I  stam- 
mered. "  If  it  were  true  and  my  lord  could  have  heard 
that  news " 

"  Wait  until  you  hear,"  she  cried.  "  I  could  not  un- 
derstand why  Mr.  Weston  should  have  spared  you  if  he 
had  had  it  in  his  power  to  injure  you,  and  a  chance  word 
he  dropped  first  set  me  on  the  right  track.  I  knew  that 
he  wanted  me  to  believe  the  worst  about  you,  but  if  he 
had  wanted  to  shield  you  he  would  not  have  set  the 
country  talking.  And  then  I  knew  that  a  great  part  of 
his  story  must  be  a  lie — the  part  in  which  I  was  most 
interested.  At  first  I  could  not  tell  where  the  truth  lay 
until  I  heard  the  story  of  the  ghost." 

"  Mr.  Weston  told  you  that  ?  "  I  cried.  "  How  did 
he  know  of  that  ?  " 

"  A  man  is  blind  when  a  woman  can  see  with  ease. 
Because  he  had  already  learned  from  Mr.  Cassilis. 
When  I  asked  who  had  told  him  the  story  I  read  the  first 
hint  of  the  truth  in  his  face,  and  I  have  been  following 
the  truth  ever  since.  I  could  almost  have  enjoyed  seeing 
him  fall  into  the  little  pitfalls  I  laid  for  him,  if  I  had  not 
been  ashamed  of  myself.  But  I  learned  the  truth,  and, 
John,  I  have  seen  Mr.  Cassilis  myself." 

"  A  living  man  !  "  I  cried. 

"  Alive  !  "  she  answered  with  a  gentle  scorn.  "  As 
much  alive  as  you  or  I.  One  night  last  week — Thurs- 
day it  was — Mr.  Weston  told  my  father  that  a  friend  was 
waiting  for  him  with  his  horse  beyond  the  village,  and  he 
could  not  stay.  You  know  my  father's  habit.  He  would 
have  this  friend  sent  for  and  would  take  no  refusal. 
There  was  something  in  Mr.  Weston's  answer  that 
awakened  my  curiosity,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to 


A  WOMAN'S  WISDOM  203 

satisfy  myself.  I  promised  Susan  a  new  bonnet  to  go 
with  me,  and  we  got  as  far  as  the  bridge  when  her  cour- 
age failed  her.  I  had  to  go  on  alone,  and  though  it  was 
dark  I  saw  enough  to  be  sure  that  my  suspicion  was 
right  and  Mr.  William  Cassilis  was  still  alive." 

"  This  is  the  best  news  I  ever  heard  in  my  life.  Oh, 
the  pitiful  villains !  And  you  are  sure  you  were  not 
mistaken  ?  " 

"  I  am  as  certain  as  that  I  am  living.  He  took  care 
that  I  should  not  have  more  than  one  glimpse  at  his  face, 
but  you  have  noticed  the  way  he  rides.  John,  it  was 
Mr.  Cassilis." 

"  But  you  have  said  nothing  to  your  father  ?  " 

"  The  dear,  old,  gallant,  loyal  blunderer.  He  is  the 
last  person  who  must  hear  it  until  Mr.  Cassilis  makes  his 
bow  to  the  public  in  person.  On  the  first  hint  he  would 
rise  up  in  arms  and  take  Mr.  Weston  by  the  throat,  and 
after  that  we  might  have  long  to  look  for  the  missing 
Mr.  Cassilis.  And  who  would  believe  that  I  was  not 
mistaken  ?  Only  my  father  and  yourself.  It  is  you 
who  must  find  him,  and  now  you  know  where  to  look." 

"  Oh  !  "  I  cried,  "  if  we  had  only  known  this  before  ! 
What  agony  and  suffering  it  would  have  saved  my  lord, 
whose  grief  has  killed  him.  The  lying,  wicked  knaves  ! 
If  you  knew  it  all,  Victory ;  if  you  knew  it  all  !  " 

"  It  was  of  you  that  I  was  thinking,  John  ;  it  was  for 
you  that  I  was  fighting." 

"  Greatheart,  the  gallant  soldier,"  I  cried,  pressing 
her  hands  to  my  lips.  "  You  have,  indeed,  seen  where  I 
have  been  blind.  If  that  cruel  villain  is  above  ground  I 
will  find  him." 


CHAPTER  XV 

JOHN    CASSILIS    PAYS    A   VISIT 

THE  country  round  Langston  was  very  different  at 
the  time  of  which  I  write  from  what  it  is  at  present. 
Now  the  people  are  honest,  thrifty,  and  industrious ; 
there  is  a  good  market  in  the  village,  several  excellent 
schools,  and  a  constable,  who  gives  his  time  to  the  culti- 
vation of  roses.  Then  the  people  had  the  worst  repu- 
tation in  the  world.  When  they  were  not  drinking  at 
the  "  Thatched  House  "  they  were  helping  to  run  the 
smuggled  goods  ashore,  and  there  was  hardly  anyone  for 
seven  miles  round  who  was  not  in  some  way  connected 
with  this  pernicious  traffic.  The  half-yearly  fair  was 
an  orgie  in  which  lives  were  habitually  lost,  and  it  was 
seldom  that  the  offender  was  brought  to  justice. 

It  was  the  day  following  the  news  of  Victory's  startling 
discovery  that  I  found  myself  at  the  "  Thatched  House," 
the  only  inn  in  the  village  of  Langston.  That  news 
found  me  at  first  bewildered  and  incredulous ;  it  was  so 
unexpected,  so  unhoped  for,  that  I  could  hardly  at  first 
believe  it ;  the  malice  and  heartlessness  that  underlay  it 
staggered  my  credulity.  But  the  more  I  thought  over 
all  the  circumstance,  and  especially  upon  Victory's  un- 
equivocal conviction,  the  first  faint  hope  grew  into  posi- 
tive certainty  and  assurance. 

Early  the  next  morning  I  had  visited  the  cliffs  and 
again  carefully  examined  the  scene  of  the  accident,  and  I 
found  that  at  this  point  some  fifteen  feet  down  there  was 
a  projecting  ledge  on  which  a  quantity  of  dense  brush- 

204 


JOHN  CASSILIS  PAYS  A  VISIT         205 

wood  was  growing,  and  a  young  ash  quite  strong  enough 
to  bear  a  man's  weight.  As  far  as  this  ledge  the  cliff  did 
not  run  quite  perpendicular,  and  from  this  point  it  would 
be  perfectly  practicable  for  one  with  some  degree  of  safety 
to  make  his  way  back  to  the  top.  I  wondered  that  this 
had  never  occurred  to  me  before,  but  I  was  so  certain  of 
the  fatal  termination  of  the  tragedy  that  I  had  never  looked 
for  any  other  issue.  But  I  felt  now  that  by  a  miraculous 
good  fortune  the  body  had  fallen  upon  the  ledge,  and  had 
been  sustained  by  the  brushwood  that  had  its  roots  deep 
in  the  crevices  of  the  cliff,  and  that  probably  William  Cas- 
silis  had  lain  here  for  some  time  stunned  and  unconscious. 

Whether  Weston  had  been  in  the  neighbourhood  await- 
ing the  result  of  the  interview  I  was  not  certain,  but  cer- 
tainly either  he  or  someone  in  his  confidence  had  seen 
what  had  occurred  and  had  come  to  the  assistance  of  the 
fallen  man  immediately  after  I  had  left.  As  to  the  mind 
that  had  planned  the  scheme  of  the  disappearance  I  had 
not  very  far  to  seek.  If  left  to  himself  William  Cassilis, 
in  his  vindictive  hatred,  would  at  once  have  raised  an  out- 
cry, or  would  have  endeavoured  to  exact  compensation  in 
some  manner  equally  effective.  But  his  friend  had  turned 
the  incident  to  serve  his  own  purpose,  and  in  fact  had 
nearly  succeeded.  What  arguments  he  had  used  I  do 
not  know,  but  certainly,  so  far  as  Lord  Heronford  was 
concerned,  no  plan  could  have  been  adopted  that  would 
have  caused  him  greater  suffering  and  anguish. 

But  this  was  not  the  main  motive  for  the  design, 
though  it  probably  formed  a  part  of  it.  I  had  been  pres- 
ent and  my  lips  were  sealed  ;  if  I  was  not  an  accomplice 
I  might  easily  appear  one,  and  had  no  means  of  clearing 


206  HERONFORD 

myself  of  the  charge.  With  that  weapon  Weston  could 
strike  me  at  pleasure,  and  for  my  lord's  sake  I  dare  not 
retaliate.  By  this  means  he  would  be  able  to  clear  a  suc- 
cessful rival  from  his  path,  and  after  he  had  succeeded 
William  Cassilis  could  then  return  to  life  with  any  story 
he  might  choose  to  invent.  The  scheme  was  simple  in 
its  diabolical  cunning,  and  if  it  had  been  carried  out  with 
care  and  vigilance  it  is  hard  to  tell  what  the  result  might 
have  been.  But  William  Cassilis  was  hard  to  hold,  and 
Weston  had  found  it  impossible  to  enforce  a  rigid  seclu- 
sion upon  him.  I  was  now  assured  that  Victory  was  not 
the  only  one  who  had  seen  him  ;  my  lord  and  myself  had 
seen  him  in  the  corridor  at  Heronford,  and  whether  or 
not  it  was  a  wicked  jest,  we  had  met  face  to  face  the  man 
whom  we  would  have  given  the  world  to  know  was  alive. 

After  I  had  perfectly  made  up  my  mind  as  to  the  cer- 
tainty of  the  discovery  I  did  not  quite  know  what  was  the 
wisest  course  to  take.  I  had  a  great  mind  to  go  over  to 
Fareham  to  consult  with  Mr.  Stone  upon  the  subject,  and 
it  might  have  been  well  that  I  had,  but  I  had  a  strong 
disinclination  to  lay  all  the  facts  before  him,  and  I  was 
naturally  desirous  of  making  the  discovery  myself.  I  felt 
pretty  confident  that  Mr.  Weston  had  no  suspicion  of  the 
failure  of  his  plans,  and  I  hoped  that  this  easy  confidence 
might  beget  some  further  carelessness. 

In  this  mind  I  drove  part  of  the  way  to  Langston,  and 
then  dismissing  my  conveyance  I  walked  to  the  "  Thatched 
House,"  where  I  resolved  to  spend  two  or  three  days.  I 
was  altogether  unknown  here,  and  I  suppose  there  was 
nothing  in  my  appearance  that  called  for  comment,  for  I 
seemed  to  escape  all  observation,  and  the  story  that  I  told 


JOHN  CASSILIS  PAYS  A  VISIT         207 

appeared  to  be  received  quite  readily.  All  the  enquiries 
that  I  made,  and  they  were  made  unobtrusively,  were  en- 
tirely barren  of  result.  I  hung  round  the  little  quay  and 
chatted  familiarly  with  the  fishermen ;  I  affected  to 
drink  in  the  evening  in  the  corner  of  the  common  room, 
and  listened  to  secrets  that  were  once  illumined  by  a  flash 
of  knives,  or  I  lay  in  the  shrubbery  round  Langston 
Priory  and  watched  the  doors  and  passage  to  the  stables. 
But  I  could  discern  nothing  that  afforded  me  any  satis- 
faction. No  one  appeared  to  know  anything  about  Mr. 
Weston's  household,  or  if  he  did  was  equally  averse  to 
discussing  the  matter  with  a  stranger,  and  certainly  I  my- 
self saw  nothing  that  awakened  the  slightest  suspicion. 

I  had  imagined  that  it  would  be  easy  for  me  to  pick  up 
some  clue,  but  at  the  end  of  the  three  days  I  was  no 
wiser  than  I  had  been  at  the  beginning.  I  was  then  more 
than  surprised  to  receive  a  polite  notice  to  quit.  I  had 
thought  I  had  secured  a  good  friend  in  the  landlord  for  I 
had  been  free  with  my  money  and  had  given  very  little 
trouble,  but  I  now  found  that  for  some  reason  he  was 
tired  of  my  company.  He  had  formerly  been  butler  at 
the  Priory  and  had  lost  an  eye  in  that  dangerous  service, 
but  though  crapulous  in  his  manner  he  was  at  bottom 
a  good-humoured  fellow,  and  would  not  have  done  me 
an  injury  without  some  provocation. 

"You'll  not  be  staying  much  longer  in  these  parts,  I 
reckon,"  he  said,  with  his  amorphous  smile  and  his  blind 
eye  beaming  upon  me  with  mellow  benevolence. 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  I  answered.  "  I  haven't 
quite  made  up  my  mind." 

"  For  a  young  gentleman  that  has  to  earn  his  living 


208  HERONFORD 

you  must  have  a  deal  of  spare  time  on  your  hands,  Mr. 
Brown  " — this  was  the  travelling  name  I  had  assumed — 
"  not  but  that  you  are  a  good  customer  and  easily  satis- 
fied. But  I'm  thinking  you  had  better  make  up  your 
mind  while  you  have  a  whole  skin.  You  see  there  are 
times  when  a  change  of  air  is  good  for  the  constitution." 

"  I  didn't  think  I  had  offended  anyone,"  I  answered, 
"  and  I  am  certain  I  am  not  in  the  slightest  danger." 

"  Oh  !  you're  sure  of  that,  are  you  ?  I  don't  say  that 
you  are  and  I  don't  say  that  you're  not,  but  I'm  not  go- 
ing to  take  the  responsibility  of  the  doubt.  You  can  see 
for  yourself  that  they're  a  quiet  people  in  these  parts  till 
the  drink  is  in  them,  and  then  they  take  queer  fancies 
about  strangers.  Now  they  have  begun  to  take  fancies 
about  yourself,  and  in  general  there's  no  Christian  burial 
in  the  parish  since  the  curate  went  to  Bramston." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  serious,"  I  said,  "  but  I  must  say 
I  have  seen  no  sign  of  ill-will  since  I  have  been  here." 

"  Oh,  never  a  sign.  You  never  would  till  you  wakened 
up  in  glory  with  a  hole  in  your  back  as  deep  as  a  well." 

"  It  is  too  preposterous.    What  do  they  suppose  I  am  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  haven't  quite  got  the  rights  of  it  yet.  Some 
of  them  say  you're  a  gauger  and  some  of  them  say  you're 
a  bailiff,  but  the  most  hold  you're  a  Frenchman  because 
you  cut  your  words  small  and  won't  drink  spirits.  No, 
no,  Mr.  Brown,  I'm  sorry  to  lose  you,  but  you'll  have  to 
be  packing  and  let  us  get  back  to  a  quiet  life." 

"  Oh  !  "  I  answered,  smiling,  "  I  have  no  desire  to 
disturb  the  peace,  but  surely  you  will  not  turn  me  out 
this  evening  ?  It  is  a  long  way  to  the  next  inn,  and  it 
promises  to  be  a  wet  night." 


JOHN  CASSILIS  PAYS  A  VISIT         209 

41 1  think  I  can  do  with  you  another  night  if  you  keep  to 
your  own  room  and  don't  show  yourself  too  much  in  pub- 
lic. But  I'll  have  to  answer  for  your  conduct,  and  your 
thirst  for  information  has  got  me  into  trouble  already." 

He  delivered  his  last  words  with  a  snap  which  showed 
me  two  things :  that  this  was  a  real  and  substantial  griev- 
ance upon  his  part,  and  that  he  was  desirous  of  bringing 
an  unpleasant  colloquy  to  a  conclusion.  I  was  fain  to  be 
content  with  the  further  indulgence  he  showed  me,  and 
though  I  was  not  altogether  satisfied  with  his  explanation, 
I  felt  that  after  all  I  was  merely  losing  time  in  the  manner 
in  which  my  search  had  hitherto  been  conducted,  and 
that  I  must  adopt  some  other  course  if  I  hoped  for  im- 
mediate success.  I  thought  over  the  matter  for  a  long 
time  after  I  had  retired  for  the  night,  but  I  could  think  of 
no  feasible  plan  that  would  bring  me  any  nearer  my  end, 
and  at  last  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  must  consult  with  Mr. 
Stone  and,  putting  so  much  of  the  story  before  him  as  I 
might  think  necessary,  rely  upon  his  riper  and  practical 
judgment  and  experience. 

This  was  the  resolution  with  which  I  fell  asleep,  but  in 
the  morning  I  awakened  with  a  new  and  bolder  plan  fresh 
and  fixed  in  my  mind.  This  was  nothing  less  than  person- 
ally to  call  upon  Mr.  Weston  and  charge  him  boldly  with 
the  conspiracy  into  which  he  had  entered.  Looking  back 
upon  it  now  I  cannot  possibly  see  what  I  thought  to  gain 
by  adopting  this  course,  but  my  impatience  was  so  great 
that  I  wanted  matters  hurried  to  a  crisis.  I  admit  I  did 
not  see  the  danger  involved  in  this  or  the  possible  ad- 
vantage I  might  give  my  enemy  in  showing  him  his  scheme 
was  suspected  if  not  discovered ;  but,  indeed,  I  did  not 


2io  HERONFORD 

weigh  the  consequences  at  all,  for  no  sooner  had  I  con- 
ceived the  design  than  I  resolved  to  put  it  in  execution. 
I  do  not  think  I  was  foolish  enough  to  imagine  that  I 
would  be  able  to  extort  a  confession,  but  I  probably 
trusted  to  the  chapter  of  accidents,  which  is  sometimes 
more  fruitful  of  results  than  the  wisest  and  most  delib- 
erate counsel. 

Langston  Priory  stands  in  the  dip  of  a  wooded  hill  that 
bounds  the  view  upon  all  sides  but  that  of  the  sea,  of  which 
you  might  almost  catch  the  fresh,  salt  smell  upon  a  day 
when  a  landward  breeze  is  blowing  strong.  Several  miles 
of  park  lie  between  the  house  and  the  coast  road,  and  the 
avenue  which  winds  with  many  sweeps  and  turns,  though 
narrow  and  ill-kept,  through  a  dense  growth  of  noble  trees, 
gives  one  the  idea  that  the  extent  is  even  greater.  The 
place  showed  no  sign  of  care,  but  everywhere  rather  of 
neglect  and  decay.  The  entrance  gate  was  in  ruins  and 
the  lodge  deserted  ;  in  the  avenue  great  trees  that  had  been 
uprooted  by  the  winter  storm  lay  just  as  they  had  fallen, 
almost  obstructing  the  path  on  which  the  grass  was  grow- 
ing in  long  and  tangled  patches.  The  house  was  larger 
and  more  imposing  than  Heronford. 

A  considerable  portion  of  the  abbey  still  stood  in  ex- 
cellent preservation,  but  the  grandfather  of  the  present 
Mr.  Weston  had  added  a  great  range  built  in  the  Italian 
manner,  an  undertaking  which  had  almost  impoverished 
him,  and  which  he  had  left  still  incomplete.  Neither  of 
his  successors  had  attempted  to  complete  the  work  he  had 
left  unfinished,  and  the  house  now  stood  a  memorial  of 
extravagance  and  folly.  But  I  can  give  you  no  idea  of  the 
appearance  of  neglect  and  ruin  that  the  place  presented. 


JOHN  CASSILIS  PAYS  A  VISIT         211 

The  windows  along  one  entire  side  had  either  been 
boarded  up  or  were  closed  with  shutters ;  the  grass  was 
growing  upon  the  drive  till  it  could  hardly  be  distinguished 
from  the  turf,  and  the  gardens  with  their  forlorn  groups 
of  statues — fauns  and  nymphs  and  neglected  gods — were 
rank  and  overgrown  with  weeds. 

I  rapped  at  the  main  door  until  I  was  tired,without  being 
able  to  make  anyone  hear  me,  and  then  I  walked  in  the 
direction  of  the  stables,  where  I  knew  that  I  should  find 
someone  to  answer  my  inquiries.  I  was  not  mistaken  in 
this.  I  found  an  ostler  crossing  the  yard  and  very  intent 
upon  his  work ;  at  sight  of  me  he  almost  dropped  the 
bucket  he  was  carrying. 

"  Is  Mr.  Weston  at  home  ?  "  I  said  civilly. 

"  Anan  ?  " 

"  I  am  anxious  to  see  Mr.  Weston,"  I  repeated. 
"  Shall  I  find  him  at  home  ? " 

"  Noa ;  'tis  too  early  for  squire.  Ye  had  best  not  wait 
for  him.  He  wooant  see  you,  I'm  thinking." 

"  But  my  business  is  of  importance." 

"  So  is  hissn,  I  reckon.  You  do'ant  happen  to  know 
squire,  mister,  nor  dogwhip  nayther,"  and  he  laughed  as 
though  he  enjoyed  the  jest. 

"  I  know  Mr.  Weston  very  well,"  I  answered,  "  and 
look  here,  my  man,  if  you  will  find  him  for  me  you  shall 
have  a  couple  more  of  these.  Perhaps,"  I  added,  "  he 
has  visitors  with  him  ? " 

The  fellow  looked  at  the  crown  I  gave  him,  holding  it 
in  his  open  palm,  and  then  he  bit  it  with  his  teeth. 

"  Noa,  noa,"  he  said  with  a  roguish  look,  "  I  do'ant 
answer  no  questions  about  squire's  business,  but  ye'er  a 


212  HERONFORD 

civil-spoken  gentleman  enough,  and  its  odds — not  a  par- 
son, eh  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  a  parson,"  I  laughed. 

"  Nor  a  Revenue  man  ?     Squire's  death  on  they." 

"  Not  even  that." 

"  Then  he  may  see  you,  though  you  do'ant  look  his 
sort.  But  I  wo'ant  answer  for  squire  of  a  morning,  and 
ye'll  best  give  him  soft  side  of  your  tongue  if  ye  want  to 
come  soft  wi'  him.  Ye're  warned  fair." 

"  I'm  prepared  even  to  take  that  risk." 

"  Well,  I'll  take  the  liberty  of  putting  you  into  th'  gun 
room.  There's  only  poor  doitered  Sir  Archie  there  wi' 
his  whamlaries,  and  he  wo'ant  mind  ye." 

"  Sir  Archie  ?  " 

"  Ay,  squire's  brother — soart  of  innocent.  An  ye're 
sure  ye're  not  a  gauger  ?  " 

On  my  reassuring  him  he  led  the  way  across  the  yard 
and  up  a  short  flight  of  wooden  steps  that  hardly  hung 
together.  Going  down  a  narrow  hall  we  came  to  a  door, 
which  he  flung  open  without  ceremony. 

"  Veesitors  to  see  ye,  Sir  Archie." 

He  almost  pushed  me  into  the  room,  assured  me 
hurriedly  that  he  would  do  his  best  to  find  his  master, 
and  then  closing  the  door  behind  him  turned  the  key  in 
the  lock  and  left  me  there  a  prisoner.  I  thought  for  a 
moment  that  I  had  fallen  into  a  trap,  but  knowing  that 
my  visit  was  quite  unexpected,  I  assured  myself  that  the 
fellow  had  only  taken  this  precaution  upon  his  own  re- 
sponsibility. 

The  room  was  so  dimly  lighted  by  one  window  at  the 
end  where  I  was  standing  that  at  first  I  could  not  see  the 


JOHN  CASSILIS  PAYS  A  VISIT         213 

other  occupant.  But  when  I  grew  accustomed  to  the 
gloom,  and  took  in  my  surroundings  by  degrees,  I  was 
overcome  with  no  small  degree  of  astonishment.  There 
was  a  number  of  fowling-pieces  and  three  braces  of  silver- 
mounted  pistols  arranged  on  a  rack  near  the  door,  but  the 
rest  of  the  room  contained  as  curious  a  medley  as  could 
be  imagined.  A  mangy  fox  was  snarling  and  snapping  in 
a  wooden  cage ;  half  a  dozen  white  rats  stopped  to  look 
at  me  with  their  pink  eyes,  where  they  fed  from  a  stone 
trough  in  the  centre  of  the  room ;  and  a  couple  of  owls 
sat  blinking  on  the  branching  antlers  of  a  stag  over  the 
fireplace.  A  litter  of  lurcher  puppies  were  disporting  on 
a  rug  of  bear's  skin,  and  a  little  grey  monkey,  very  quaint 
and  hideous,  was  perched  tailor-wise  upon  the  table  among 
a  heap  of  bottles  and  broken  plates.  At  one  side  against 
the  wall  was  a  magnificent  mirror,  reaching  from  the  floor 
to  the  ceiling,  but  the  glass  was  starred  and  cracked  in  a 
hundred  places  as  though  it  had  been  done  with  a  ham- 
mer. The  chairs,  which  were  originally  covered  with 
silk  or  tapestry,  had  been  stripped  or  broken,  and  a  beau- 
tiful Italian  cabinet,  that  must  at  one  time  have  been  of 
great  value,  was  used  to  store  a  number  of  pairs  of  boots 
and  other  miscellaneous  lumber. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and  as  though  occupying 
the  place  of  honour,  was  a  carved  lectern,  which  I  had  no 
doubt  had  originally  been  brought  from  the  abbey.  On 
this  was  seated  a  huge  jackdaw  that  at  the  time  I  entered 
was  in  a  state  of  great  excitement  and  anger,  and  was 
flapping  his  close-cut  wings  with  a  rancous  clamour.  A 
man  was  standing  before  him  in  a  brown  coat  with  wide 
skirts  that  reached  nearly  to  his  heels,  and  was  engaged  in 


2i4  HERONFORD 

tempting  him  with  some  food  that  he  would  hold  within 
his  reach  and  then  suddenly  withdraw.  I  thought  at  the 
moment  that  I  had  never  seen  a  more  repulsive-looking 
object  than  this  individual,  but  in  a  little  while  my  feeling 
of  aversion  was  turned  into  pity.  His  hair  grew  very  long 
and  apparently  never  received  any  attention,  while  his 
hands  and  face  were  indescribably  dirty.  His  eyes  had  a 
wild  and  vacant  stare  in  them  that  sometimes  narrowed 
into  a  look  of  animal  cunning ;  his  forehead  was  bulging 
and  projected ;  and  his  thick,  blubbering  lips  emphasised 
the  narrow  and  retreating  chin.  One  shoulder  was  a  little 
higher  than  the  other,  and  altogether  I  thought  he  might 
very  well  have  passed  for  a  Caliban  without  his  malice 
and  ferocity,  though  with  a  certain  freakish  mischief. 

He  stopped  in  his  occupation  when  I  came  in,  and 
stood  looking  at  me  with  a  mixture  of  curiosity  and  alarm. 
The  jackdaw  flapped  heavily  on  to  his  shoulder  but  he 
made  no  attempt  to  dislodge  it,  and  the  bird  sat  there, 
thrusting  out  its  neck  and  apparently  scolding  me.  The 
odour  of  the  room  was  intolerable,  and  the  din  at  first  so 
great  that  I  could  hardly  make  myself  heard. 

"  Your  favourite  does  not  seem  to  care  for  strangers," 
I  said  in  a  conciliatory  tone,  seeing  his  look  of  trepidation. 

"  Eh  ?    Ay  ?  "  he  queried  in  a  thick,  indistinct  voice. 

"  I  like  birds  myself.    You  seem  to  be  fond  of  them." 

"  Jeremy  is  not  well.  It  is  one  of  his  bad  days.  He 
is  always  ill  when  he  fasts.  Jeremy  is  no  saint.  Are  you 
Jeremy  ? " 

He  held  up  his  finger  to  the  bird  that  suddenly  became 
quite  motionless,  and  then  reproduced  his  tone  so  exactly 
that  I  was  almost  certain  it  was  he  himself  who  had  spoken. 


215 

"  Damnation  !  " 

His  master,  apparently  delighted  with  the  answer,  burst 
into  a  hoarse,  broken  laugh  that  stopped  as  suddenly  as 
it  began. 

"  Ho  !  Ho  !  Jeremy  is  the  wisest  bird  in  the  world. 
He  can  tell  what  you  are  thinking  about  before  you  open 
your  mouth.  Eh  !  old  Jeremy  ?  " 

"  He  has  learned  bad  habits.     He  should  not  swear." 

"  The  gentleman  says  you  should  not  swear — not  even 
in  Lent — Lent,  Jeremy.  But  we  could  tell  him  a  secret, 
old  bird.  He  would  swear  himself  after  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  black  years  with  only  Sir  Archie  of  all  the  round- 
bellied  old  fellows  to  keep  you  company.  Seven  hundred 
and  fifty  years,  with  never  a  prayer  for  the  good  of  your 
soul,  and  the  devil  sitting  bolt  upright  in  your  coffin  and 
playing  at  marbles  with  your  round  old  skull." 

"  My  bead  aches"  croaked  the  bird. 

"  His  soul  is  uneasy,"  said  Sir  Archie  gravely ;  "  he  is 
always  like  that  when  he  thinks  of  it.  Would  you  like 
to  know  his  history  ?  " 

I  assented  solemnly. 

"  Jeremy  was  not  Jeremy  in  those  days.  He  was  the 
Abbot  Ambrosius,  and  wore  a  ring  like  a  bishop,  and  had 
two  hundred  jolly  old  monks  to  say  the  Aves  and  drink 
with  him  when  he  was  thirsty.  And  I  was  a  lay  brother 
and  dug  in  the  garden,  and  looked  after  the  poultry,  and 
sometimes  held  Jeremy's  horse  when  he  rode  to  see  his 
brother  at  Fareham.  He  was  a  great  man  in  those  days 
— weren't  you,  Jeremy  ?  But  the  devil  got  among  the 
monks,  and  Jeremy  listened  to  the  devil  and  there  was  an 
end  of  it.  He  was  to  live  to  Domesday  and  never  quit 


2i6  HERONFORD 

the  Priory  as  long  as  he  lived.  A  bad  bargain,  old 
Jeremy,  and  the  lay  brother  had  the  best  of  it." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  fool!  "  cried  the  bird,  and  this  time 
the  voice  was  not  Sir  Archie's  voice. 

"  He  is  always  like  that  when  he  thinks  of  it.  He  used 
to  have  a  good  temper,  but  seven  hundred  years  have 
broken  it.  And  then  it  breaks  his  heart  to  think  what 
the  Westons  have  done  to  him.  I  am  Sir  Archie  Wes- 
ton,  you  know." 

I  nodded  sympathetically. 

44 1  never  could  understand  how  that  came  about ;  that 
was  the  most  curious  part  of  it.  But  George  is  all  right. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  he  is  a  Weston." 

II  D the  Westons  !  "  croaked  the  jackdaw. 

44  You  hear  him  now ;  that  is  right,  old  thunderstorm. 
He  does  not  love  George  ;  you  know  him  ?  " 

41  You  mean  your  brother  ?  " 

"  There  is  only  one  George — my  brother  George.  Ah ! 
he  is  the  only  Weston  that  ever  I  could  bear,  and  he  is 
so  strong  and  tall  and  beautiful — like  an  angel  in  a  pic- 
ture. He  hates  Jeremy,  but  he  bears  with  his  temper  for 
my  sake,  and  George  is  very  good  to  Sir  Archie — you 
can't  think  how  good.  I  couldn't  live  without  George." 

The  tone  of  honest  affection  in  the  midst  of  his  aim- 
less, maundering  babble  struck  me,  and  I  was  certain 
that  it  could  only  have  been  waked  by  the  remembrance 
of  kindness.  I  could  not  help  thinking  a  little  better  of 
Mr.  George  Weston. 

44 1  am  glad,"  I  said,  44  that  your  brother  is  kind  to 
you.  I  am  sure  he  is  a  good  brother." 

44  Those  are  his  puppies,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  rug. 


JOHN  CASSILIS  PAYS  A  VISIT         217 

"  They  don't  understaud  him  as  well  as  they  understand 
me,  but  then  I  have  learned  the  language,  and  I  love  them 
better.  I  suppose  I  was  something  else  before  I  became 
Sir  Archie,  and  that  is  how  they  know  me.  I  can  tell 
you  it  is  a  great  thing  to  have  been  something  else." 

I  am  sure  I  pitied  him  from  my  heart,  and  I  felt  that 
I  could  do  nothing  but  acquiesce  in  his  mood. 

"  You  must  be  very  happy,"  I  said,  "  with  your  family 
of  pets." 

"  None  of  them  ever  troubles  me  but  Jeremy,  and  that 
is  because  he  knows" so  much  more  than  the  rest.  George 
does  not  like  them,  but  he  bears  with  them  because  they 
are  mine.  You  don't  happen  to  know  William  Cassilis  ? " 

I  started  at  the  sudden  question,  and  then  answered  — 

"  Yes,  I  know  William  Cassilis." 

He  came  close  to  me  and  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm 
with  a  look  of  great  cunning,  in  which  there  was  mingled 
a  sense  of  satisfaction  and  enjoyment. 

"  Sir  Archie  and  Jeremy  know  all  about  it — they  are 
not  sleeping.  Ah  !  but  I  am  not  sure  of  you.  It  is  a 
secret.  Ho  !  ho  !  A  secret !  You  are  sure  you  can  keep 
a  secret  ?  " 

"  I  can  try  if  you  will  trust  me  with  it." 

"  But  you  haven't  seen  Simpson  yet  ?  Simpson  is  my 
fox,  and  is  quite  a  gentleman.  You  must  ask  him 
whether  he  is  better." 

"  But  about  William  Cassilis  ?  "  I  said  gently. 

"  Ah  !  yes  ;  I  was  forgetting  him.  Sir  Archie  is  not 
the  only  one  who  is  dead  and  walks  up  and  down  when 
he  should  be  lying  in  a  lead  coffin,  and  have  a  stone  with 
his  name  cut  on  it,  and  a  little  house  all  to  himself  with 


2i8  HERONFORD 

the  worms  and  black-beetles  to  keep  him  company.  I 
can't  make  out  what  William  Cassilis  is  now,  but  I  know 
he  is  dead  and  they  haven't  buried  him." 

"That  is  wrong,"  I  said ;  "but  how  do  you  know  that 
he  is  dead  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  know.  Archie  knows.  Did  I  not  hear 
George  tell  him  that  he  was  the  maddest  dead  man  he 
ever  saw  in  his  life  ?  You  know  all  dead  men  are  mad  ? " 

" 1  suppose  they  are  when  they  come  to  life  again." 

"  That  must  be  the  reason,"  he  said  with  a  sagacious 
air.  "  If  they  would  only  remain  deatl  they  never  would 
have  a  pain  in  their  head.  I  have  sometimes  pains  in  my 
head." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  that.  But  you  are  forgetting 
William  Cassilis." 

"  I  don't  know  why  everyone  when  he  dies  should 
come  to  live  at  Langston  unless  William  Cassilis  is  right 
and  it  is  really  hell,  you  know.  He  came  here  when  he 
died,  and  he  has  been  walking  about  ever  since  and  play- 
ing cards,  and — but  I  was  telling  you  about  Simpson. 
You  can  see  that  his  leg  is  nearly  broken " 

"  I  see  that  he  has  been  badly  hurt." 

"William  Cassilis  did  that.  George  gave  him  to  me 
when  he  was  only  a  little  cub,  and  I  suppose  he  misses  the 
fields  and  his  little  brothers,  and  the  earth  with  the  bracken 
brown  and  green  about  it,  and  his  temper  is  not  good. 
Last  night — was  it  last  night,  for  I  always  forget " 

"That  will  do,  my  dear  Archie,  I  will  tell  this  gentle- 
man the  story  myself." 

I  turned  round  and  found  the  door  open  and  George 
Weston  standing  close  at  my  elbow. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AN    UNPLEASANT    INTERVIEW 

I  SUPPOSE  I  was  too  much  interested  in  the  uncon- 
scious revelations  of  the  poor  imbecile  to  hear  the  sound 
of  the  door  opening,  and  I  was  vexed  that  we  should  have 
been  interrupted  so  inopportunely,  but  I  hid  my  embar- 
rassment and  returned  Mr.  Weston's  stare  with  a  cold 
and  distant  bow.  At  first  he  paid  no  more  attention  to 
me  than  if  I  had  not  been  present  at  all,  but  turning  his 
back  upon  me  went  over  and  laid  his  hands  with  a  rough 
friendliness  on  his  brother's  shoulders.  I  imagined  it  was 
their  morning  greeting,  for  Sir  Archie's  dull  hanging  face 
was  lighted  up  with  a  broad  smile,  and  he  mumbled  some 
words  that  were  quite  inarticulate.  There  was  no  doubt 
he  was  unfeignedly  glad  to  see  my  enemy. 

"  How  is  the  poor  head  this  morning,  Archie  ?  The 
monks  have  been  quiet,  eh  ?  and  Jeremy  has  been  a  good 
bird  ?  " 

"  Jeremy  has  said  his  prayers  and  my  head  is  better. 
I  have  told  this  gentleman  about  Jeremy.  Why  has  he 
come  to  Langston  ?  " 

"  To  catch  rats,  Archie,  if  he  can  find  them.  Never 
mind,  we  will  set  the  dogs  on  him  if  he  gives  us  any 
trouble,  and  we  will  show  him  the  way  we  hunt  vermin. 
Go  into  the  stable  and  see  how  the  horses  are  getting  on, 
and  in  the  afternoon  you  and  I  will  look  after  the  badger. 
I  want  to  talk  to  this  gentleman  now." 

219 


220  HERONFORD 

He  laid  his  hand  affectionately  inside  his  brother's  arm 
and  drew  him  to  the  door,  while  Sir  Archie  followed  him, 
apparently  perfectly  satisfied  with  his  assurance.  When 
the  door  was  closed  and  we  were  left  alone  he  turned 
round  on  me  with  a  face  instantly  lighted  by  the  passion 
of  hate  and  resentment. 

"  By ,  you'll  rue  this.  What  the  devil  has  brought 

you  here  ? " 

"  I  have  come  here  to  see  you,  Mr.  Weston,"  I  an- 
swered coolly,  though  I  thought  for  the  moment  he  was 
going  to  strike  me. 

"  Oh !  you  have  come  here  to  see  me,  you  sneaking 
cur  ?  You  weren't  content  to  spy  on  me  at  Langston, 
Mr.  Brown,  when  with  a  word  from  me  you  would  have 
been  tossed  into  the  quay  or  sent  a  longer  journey  than 
you  might  have  a  taste  for.  I  might  have  forgiven  you 
that.  I  might  have  let  you  go  to  the  devil  in  your  own 
way,  but  you  weren't  satisfied  with  that.  You  must  come 
here  to  pry  into  my  secrets,  to  dig  up  my  family  skele- 
tons, to — who  brought  you  into  this  room,  you ?  " 

"  If  all  your  secrets  were  as  much  to  your  credit,  Mr. 
Weston,  as  the  one  I  have  discovered  here,  you  would 
not  have  been  troubled  with  my  presence.  I  have 
thought  better  of  you  since  I  have  learned  it." 

"  Who  wants  you  to  think  well  of  him  ?  By  Heaven, 
I  had  rather  have  your  ill-opinion  than  your  good.  I 
want  no  man's  good  opinion — least  of  all  yours.  I'll 
know  who  brought  you  into  this  room,  and  if  I  leave  a 
whole  bone  in  his  body  my  name  isn't  George  Weston. 
Have  you  rubbed  up  your  dull  wits  ?  Have  you  found 
out  what  you  wanted  ?  Has  that  poor  innocent  satisfied 


AN  UNPLEASANT  INTERVIEW        221 

you  that  he  is  no  wiser  than  yourself  with  more  excuse 
for  his  folly  ?  You  were  well-matched ;  yes,  you  were 
well-matched." 

"  A  precious  pair,  George"  croaked  the  jackdaw,  that 
all  the  time  had  been  sitting  on  the  lectern  watching  us 
out  of  his  wicked  eyes. 

"  Hold  your  tongue  or  I'll  wring  your  neck,  you  old 
devil ! "  cried  Weston.  "  Now,  Mr.  Brown  or  Mr. 
Cassilis — one  name  is  as  good  as  the  other — what  have 
you  come  here  to  say  to  me  ? " 

"  I  have  not  come  here  to  quarrel,  sir." 

"  Only  another  lecture  on  deportment — I  thought  as 
much,"  he  said  with  a  sneer.  "  I  don't  forget  that  you 
were  not  always  so  peaceably  inclined,  and  if  I  bore  with 
your  blow  then  it  was  for  purposes  of  my  own.  But  I 
haven't  forgot  it,  and  will  cry  quits  if  we  both  live  long 
enough." 

"  I  am  ready  to  give  you  the  satisfaction  of  a  gentle- 
man for  my  conduct." 

"  A  fine  gentleman  !  It  doesn't  please  me  to  stand  up 
to  be  shot  at — that's  not  my  way.  I'll  fight  you  with  my 
own  weapons,  and  when  we  have  done  I'll  get  more 
satisfaction  than  I  would  ever  get,  in  attending  your 
funeral.  That's  my  notion  of  honour  in  fighting  a  gen- 
tleman like  you." 

u  You  have  strange  notions  of  honour,  Mr.  Weston." 

O  * 

"  Well,  I  don't  change  my  name,  and  lie  in  a  pot-house 
for  the  end  of  a  week  to  see  how  my  neighbour's  smoke 
is- blowing — my  honour  doesn't  take  that  turn.  I'm  sorry 
now  that  I  let  you  off  so  easily  and  only  asked  you  to 
change  your  lodging.  I  should  have  called  4  shark '  and 


222  HERONFORD 

let  the  lads  treat  you  in  their  own  way.  I'll  do  it  yet,  I 
will,  by " 

"  Then  this  was  another  polite  attention  of  yours.  It 
did  not  occur  to  me." 

"  I  suppose  I  should  have  sent  you  a  polite  note  of  in- 
vitation, and  asked  you  to  come  and  share  our  festivities 
at  the  Priory.  Archie  and  you  would  have  got  on  very 
well  together.  But  we  have  had  enough  of  these  civil 
preliminaries,  and  I  don't  want  to  lose  my  temper.  May 
I  take  the  liberty  of  asking  on  what  errand  you  have 
come  to  see  me,  for  you  are  an  intolerable  time  in  get- 
ting at  the  essentials  ?  " 

"  My  errand  is  a  very  simple  one,  Mr.  Weston,  and 
can  be  spoken  in  a  word.  I  have  come  to  ask  you  to 
restore  Mr.  William  Cassilis  to  his  friends,  for  by  this 
time  the  farce  is  nearly  played  out." 

His  astonishment  was  so  well  counterfeited — the  blank 
look,  the  start  of  surprise,  the  unconscious  pause — that 
had  I  not  already  perfectly  known  the  part  he  was  acting 
I  should  have  been  staggered  by  his  manner.  That 
could  not  have  been  excelled  by  any  actor  upon  the  stage, 
and  only  wanted  an  audience  less  incredulous  than  my- 
self to  have  rendered  it  perfect. 

"  Dam'me,  the  farce  is  only  beginning.  But  I  can't 
have  understood  what  you  want  with  me." 

"  I  have  spoken  plainly  ;  you  understand  me  perfectly. 
If  you  think  to  deceive  me  in  this  way  once  for  all  I  tell 
you  plainly  you  are  mistaken,  for  I  know " 

"  That  I  was  so  fond  of  honest  Will  Cassilis  when 
he  was  alive  that  I  couldn't  part  with  him  now  that  he 
is  dead  and  gone.  It  seems  I  have  founded  a  museum 


AN  UNPLEASANT  INTERVIEW        223 

and  turned  a  collector  of  curiosities.  I  have  seen  the 
thing  done — labelled  in  spirits  and  a  stopper  on  the  bot- 
tle— and  Will  Cassilis  is  to  make  a  specimen.  If  he 
were  alive  he  would  enjoy  the  joke  with  any  man  I 
know,  but  since  he  is  dead  it  can't  tickle  him  now. 
Upon  my  word  I  don't  understand  you,  Mr. — is  it  Brown 
or  Cassilis  ? " 

"  Is  it  still  necessary  to  endeavour  to  keep  up  this  de- 
ception, sir  ?  Was  it  last  night  you  played  at  cards  with 
him,  or  did  you  see  him  this  morning  ?  If  you  will  be 
good  enough  to  bring  him  here  I  should  be  happy  to  tell 
him  what  I  think  of  your  conduct  and  his." 

"  I  see,"  he  sneered,  "  that  we  are  beginning  to  arrive 
at  an  understanding,  though  you  have  a  confounded  way 
of  arriving  at  your  meaning.  You  do  not  mean  that  I 
have  the  custody  merely  of  his  honoured  bones ;  I  am 
supposed  to  produce  him  alive." 

"  That  is  exactly  my  meaning,  and  no  one  knows  it 
better  than  Mr.  Weston." 

"This  is  a  better  joke  than  the  other,  and  that  was  hard 
to  beat.  I  see  now  what  brought  you  to  Langston  and 
set  you  prying  into  every  hole  in  the  village,  though  for 
my  life  I  couldn't  understand  it  before.  Your  conscience 
is  troubling  you,  Mr.  Cassilis ;  the  ghost  has  got  into  your 
brain.  I'm  told  you  have  seen  the  ghost." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  your  friend  has  told  you  the  whole 
story." 

"  Oh  !  he  has,  has  he  ?  Come,  sir,  we'll  beat  about 
the  bush  no  longer.  I  wonder  at  your  assurance.  Do 
you  think  that  I  am  a  child  to  be  taken  in  by  this  cock- 
and-bull  story  ?  " 


224  HERONFORD 

"  We  both  know  that  William  Cassilis  is  alive  and  in 
this  house  at  this  moment." 

"  I  know  that  you  are  standing  before  me  with  a  rope 
round  your  neck  if  I  chose  to  speak  the  word.  I  know 
that  if  I  did  my  duty  as  a  magistrate  I  should  make  out  a 
warrant  for  your  committal,  and  see  you  conveyed  safe 
to  Fareham  gaol.  And  you  come  to  me  with  your 

trumped-up  story — to  me,  by who  saw  with  my  own 

eyes — you  have  the  truth  now — your  master  and  your- 
self do  my  unfortunate  friend  to  death.  You  would 
make  a  fine  show  in  the  cart  together,  and  I  don't  know 
why  I  don't  see  you  both  upon  the  road." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  the  reason,  Mr.  Weston  ?  Because 
you  might  find  it  difficult  to  produce  the  body.  Knowing 
what  you  appear  to  know  you  will  now  find  it  difficult 
to  explain  why  you  have  remained  so  long  silent,  but  I 
am  glad  to  think  I  should  have  had  so  excellent  a  witness 
on  my  behalf  had  things  turned  out  differently.  I  am 
sure  you  would  have  spoken  the  truth,  Mr.  Weston." 

"  I'll  speak  the  truth  yet,  happen  what  may,  and  then 
you  can  tell  your  story  to  a  judge  and  jury  and  see  whether 
they  will  believe  you.  Do  you  want  a  warrant  to  search 
my  house,  to  examine  my  servants,  to  twist  the  words  of 
my  unfortunate  brother  to  the  tune  of  your  midsummer 
madness  ?  Oh  !  this  is  too  much,  by The  confed- 
erate who  stands  by  and  watches  the  deed  done  when  he 
feels  that  his  neck  is  in  danger  comes  here  to  try  to  shift 
the  charge  and  close  the  witness'  mouth  against  him.  I 
know  your  tricks ;  I  see  through  your  scheme,  but  it 
won't  do  with  me.  No,  no,  Mr.  John  Cassilis,  you 
must  try  some  other  plan." 


AN  UNPLEASANT  INTERVIEW        225 

"You  mean,  then,  to  persist  in  your  denial  at  all 
hazards  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  see  you  hanged  as  high  as  Haman." 
"  It  is  idle  for  you  to  talk  in  this  way.  You  have  your- 
self admitted  to  me  even  now  you  saw  what  occurred. 
If  William  Cassilis  had  been  killed  no  one  knows  better 
than  yourself  it  would  have  been  merely  the  result  of  a 
deplorable  accident  in  which  I  had  neither  hand  nor  part. 
But  you  know  and  I  know  that  he  was  not  killed,  that 
he  is  alive  at  this  moment,  and  that  you  are  keeping  him 
in  hiding  to  serve  your  own  ends  and  answer  your  own 
wicked  purpose." 

"  Fine  words  !     You  would  find  it  hard  to  prove  that." 
"  I  think  I  have  found  the  means  of  proving  it  never- 
theless." 

"  Let  me  hear  your  proofs.  An  idiot  and  a  ghost  ?  " 
Though  he  spoke  contemptuously  I  saw  that  I  had 
awakened  his  interest,  and  he  was  anxious  to  know  the 
extent  and  source  of  my  knowledge.  I  was  almost  upon 
the  point  of  allowing  my  feelings  to  get  the  better  of  me 
and  giving  him  the  information  he  sought  when  I  re- 
strained myself. 

"  I  shall  produce  my  proofs  at  my  own  time  and  in  my 
own  place,  and  even  you  will  be  compelled  to  confess 
their  sufficiency.  I  own  that  I  did  not  come  here  out  of 
any  spirit  of  friendship  or  good-will  toward  you.  You 
have  tried  to  injure  me ;  you  have  injured  me,  and  I  may 
have  given  you  some  cause  for  your  hostility.  I  admit 
that  and  I  do  not  regret  it ;  I  should  do  the  same  thing 
again  under  the  same  circumstances.  But  that  is  not 
everything.  I  have  not  come  to  you  on  my  own  ac- 


226  HERONFORD 

count,  for  you  will  see  that  I  shall  fight  my  own  battle  in 
a  different  way  ;  not  on  my  own  account,  nor  thinking 
of  my  own  advantage.  I  implore  you  on  behalf  of  an 
innocent  man  whose  heart  has  been  broken,  whose  spirit 
has  been  tortured,  who  has  been  hounded  to  death  by  this 
cruel  plot  of  which  I  alone  am  the  object,  to  give  him 
some  hope  and  let  him  have  some  peace  before  he  dies. 
There  is  no  need  to  disguise  from  you  that  Lord  Heron- 
ford  imagined  he  was  the  cause  of  his  brother's  death. 
Is  he  to  die  with  this  black  shadow  lying  upon  his  death- 
bed when  a  word  from  you  will  remove  it  ?  It  were  only 
common  humanity  to  cease  to  persist  in  it." 

"  Upon  my  life,  Mr.  Cassilis,  you  have  missed  your 
vocation  in  the  world ;  you  have  some  skill  in  the  use  of 
language.  But  might  I  not  suggest  that  if  I  am  guilty 
of  all  you  say,  that  it  would  be  an  easier  and  plainer 
course  to  produce  your  evidence  than  to  try  to  extort  a 
confession  from  the  criminal  ?  Come,  come,  sir.  You 
need  not  harp  upon  that  string;  I  am  too  old  for  cheap 
pathos.  You  and  I  have  tried  conclusions  together  and  I 
have  had  the  best  of  the  argument.  You  thought  a  fox- 
hunter  couldn't  fight ;  you  imagined  because  I  loved  a  bot- 
tle better  than  books  that  I  had  no  wits.  You  were  good 
enough  to  declare  war  against  me ;  well,  sir,  you  declared 
war,  and  I  imagine  I  have  had  a  good  deal  the  best  of  you 
in  the  battle  of  Carnforth.  That  is  the  whole  situation." 

"  Is  it  necessary,  Mr.  Weston,  that  we  should  touch 
upon  that  subject  ?  " 

"  No,  not  now,  for  I  think  I  have  effectually  done  your 
business  there.  I  would  only  remind  you,  Mr.  Cassilis, 
that  even  a  prize-fighter  can  love  a  woman  as  well  as  a 


AN  UNPLEASANT  INTERVIEW        227 

troubadour,  and  perhaps  go  a  little  further  in  his  rough 
way  for  her  sake." 

"  And  I  am  to  take  it  as  your  final  answer  that  you 
will  still  persist  in  this  persecution  ?  " 

"  You  are  to  take  it  for  my  final  answer  that  you  are  a 
fool  to  suppose  that  I  will  give  up  the  advantage  I  have 
gained,  and  that  I  should  be  a  greater  fool  still  if  I  did. 
And  now,  Mr.  Cassilis,  I  have  only  one  word  more  to  say. 
If  my  lamented  friend  is  not  dead  I  shall  take  care  to  see, 
as  far  as  you  are  concerned,  that  he  is  as  good  as  dead. 
You  came  here  to  see  me  on  my  own  ground — first  to 
threaten,  and  when  that  failed  then  to  wheedle.  Very 
well,  I  haven't  done  with  you.  You  say  that  you  will 
fight  me  in  your  own  way  ;  so  will  I,  and  I  will  give  you 
a  lesson  you  will  never  forget  as  long  as  you  live.  I  will 
take  off  the  gloves  and  show  you  how  easily  I  have  been 
dealing  with  you  so  far." 

"  Threatened  men  live  long,  sir ;  at  least,  we  need  not 
wrangle  further.  Even  for  your  own  sake  I  am  sorry  that 
you  have  not  seen  your  way  at  least  to  do  common  justice." 

"  Well,  at  any  rate,  I  will  do  it  now." 

He  went  over  to  the  window  and,  throwing  up  the 
sash,  called  to  someone  in  the  courtyard,  upon  which  the 
rmdow  looked.  Never  having  had  any  doubt  as  to  the 
length  to  which  his  violence  was  capable  of  carrying  him 
I  expected  nothing  less  than  that  he  was  about  to  resort 
to  physical  means,  and  I  looked  hastily  round  for  some 
means  of  defence  in  case  it  should  come  to  the  point  of 
resistance.  With  that  view  in  my  mind  I  edged  nearer 
the  arms  rack ;  he  glanced  round,  and  seeing  my  move- 
ment burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 


228  HERONFORD 

"You  needn't  be  afraid,  Mr.  Cassilis.  It  has  not 
come  to  that  yet,  though  it  may.  Simon  !  " 

I  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  under  the  window. 

"  I  want  a  couple  of  men  to  go  into  Langston.  They 
are  to  drive  the  gentleman  who  has  come  to  see  me,  and 
they  had  better  take  the  light  cart.  Hurry  them  up. 
Now,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  he  continued,  turning  round  to  me, 
"  you  see  I  have  been  providing  for  your  comfort.  I 
hope  you  will  see  your  way  to  accepting  my  kindness ; 
if  you  do  not  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  use  force,  and 
they  will  drive  you  whether  you  will  or  no.  The  next 
time  you  visit  Langston  Priory  I  shall  not  be  at  such 
trouble  to  provide  for  your  convenience." 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  objection  to  your  driving  me 
to  Langston,"  I  said,  looking  at  him  firmly,  "  and  there 
is  no  need  for  you  to  threaten  me.  I  am  not  at  all 
afraid." 

"  Fools  never  do  fear,"  he  cried  with  a  laugh,  as  he 
threw  open  the  door.  "  Now,  Mr.  Cassilis,  the  cart  will 
be  ready  in  a  moment,  for  my  fellows  never  lose  time 
when  I  am  near  them.  You  see  they  are  nearly  ready." 

We  had  come  out  into  the  bright  sunshine  of  the  court- 
yard and  stood  watching  the  men  yoking  a  high-spirited 
mare  in  the  cart.  They  were  stout,  honest-looking  fel- 
lows, who,  though  handy  enough,  seemed  to  me  to  savour 
a  good  deal  more  of  the  sea  than  of  the  stable,  and  I  re- 
membered that  Weston  was  generally  supposed  to  have  a 
closer  connection  with  the  free  traders  than  it  might  have 
been  convenient  for  him  to  have  publicly  known.  How- 
ever, I  did  not  think  he  now  intended  me  any  foul  play, 
but  merely  wanted  to  see  me  safely  off  his  premises,  and 


AN  UNPLEASANT  INTERVIEW        229 

I  was  preparing  to  get  into  the  cart  when  he  laid  his  hand 
on  my  arm. 

"  Before  you  go  there  is  something  more  that  I  should 
like  to  say  to  you." 

"  Well,  sir  ? " 

"  It  was  merely  that  I  never  could  understand  why  my 
poor  deceased  friend  was  so  bitter  against  you.  It  is  a 
curious  coincidence.  By  the  merest  accident  I  dis- 
covered that  only  this  morning,  and  I  am  glad  I  did  not 
know  earlier.  I  loved  Lord  Heronford  so  much  that  in 
showing  my  affection  for  him  I  might  have  done  your- 
self some  service.  But  all  is  well  now,  and  I  hope  you 
will  find  everything  right  at  Heronford,  only  you  might 
have  been  as  profitably  employed  looking  after  your  in- 
terests there  as  uncovering  my  nakedness  here.  Good- 
morning,  Mr.  Cassilis." 

The  mare  plunged  in  the  shafts  two  or  three  times,  and 
then  settling  steadily  to  her  collar  we  were  carried  rapidly 
down  the  drive,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  found  my- 
self again  before  the  doors  of  the  "  Thatched  House." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

LOVE,    THE    COUNSELLOR 

I  HAD  certainly  no  reason  to  congratulate  myself  upon 
the  result  of  my  visit  to  Langston  Priory  ;  indeed,  when 
I  looked  back  upon  it  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  I 
had  been  hurried  into  the  commission  of  a  grave  folly. 
I  had  to  deal  with  a  vindictive  and  unscrupulous  enemy 
who  had  been  bold  enough  to  avow  that  he  had  not  yet 
satisfied  his  enmity,  and  had  boldly  declared  that  he  was 
preparing  to  strike  another  blow.  I  was  not  a  step 
nearer  the  solution  of  the  difficulty  ;  I  had  learned  noth- 
ing of  importance,  for  the  rambling  talk  of  the  poor 
imbecile  had  told  me  nothing  of  which  I  was  not  al- 
ready fully  assured ;  but,  upon  the  other  hand,  I  had 
voluntarily  and  of  my  own  motion  informed  the  con- 
federates that  their  scheme  was  discovered,  and  that  by 
some  means  I  had  gained  possession  of  their  secret. 

When  I  thought  over  the  result  of  my  visit  there  was 
another  matter  that  troubled  me  a  good  deal.  I  had  not 
failed  to  notice  the  look  of  triumphant  malice  with  which 
Mr.  Weston  had  closed  our  interview,  nor  the  signifi- 
cant emphasis  he  had  laid  upon  his  last  words.  It  was 
impossible,  in  part  at  least,  not  to  understand  what  he 
had  meant  to  convey.  By  some  means  he  had  learned 
the  secret  which  my  lord  had  guarded  so  jealously,  and 
which  there  were  so  many  reasons  for  keeping  inviolate 
till  his  death.  At  first  I  supposed  that  William  Cassilis, 

230 


LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR  231 

who  had  apparently  withheld  his  confidence  from  him  so 
long  upon  that  subject,  had  at  last  been  induced  to  admit 
him  fully  into  his  discovery,  but  his  language  conveyed 
more  than  that,  and  carried  with  it  a  warning  which 
struck  me  with  dismay  when  I  began  to  consider  it. 
That  warning  had  not  been  directed  toward  Lord  Heron- 
ford,  against  whom  he  had,  indeed,  obtained  a  powerful 
weapon,  but  toward  me,  who  could  not  possibly  be  in- 
jured by  the  disclosure.  It  imported  something  more 
than  a  mere  discovery — that  had  carried  with  it  a  power 
to  strike  directly  at  myself  or  there  was  no  meaning  in 
his  language. 

But  how  ?  By  what  means  ?  All  at  once  a  series  of 
possibilities  presented  themselves  to  my  mind,  which 
grew  upon  me  with  a  heightening  feeling  of  terror  until 
I  felt  my  heart  knocking  in  my  breast.  Was  it  possible 
that  by  some  means  my  precious  papers  had  fallen  into 
his  hands,  and  that  while  I  was  pursuing  my  foolish  and 
fruitless  enquiries  he  had  succeeded  by  some  means  in 
obtaining  the  sole  evidence  of  my  birthright  ?  I  had 
imagined  the  papers  were  perfectly  safe ;  I  had  felt  the 
most  absolute  security  in  the  fact  that  their  existence 
was  known  only  to  my  lord  and  myself;  it  had  never 
occurred  to  me  for  a  moment  that  any  attempt  would  be 
made  upon  them,  or  that  the  place  where  they  were 
deposited  would  be  discovered. 

But  I  remembered  all  the  circumstances  now,  and  I 
exclaimed  upon  myself  for  a  blind  and  heedless  fool. 
Upon  that  very  night  when  these  precious  documents  had 
been  intrusted  to  my  keeping  William  Cassilis  had  been 
at  Heronford ;  nay,  more,  he  had  been  upon  the  very 


232 


HERONFORD 


threshold  of  the  room  in  which  my  lord  and  I  were  sit- 
ting. I  remembered  now  the  circumstance  of  finding  the 
door  open  that  I  had  supposed  to  be  shut,  and  it  was 
possible  for  him  to  have  overheard  every  word  we  had 
spoken.  I  had  been  carried  away  by  my  idle  fears  that  I 
had  myself  afterwards  laughed  at,  but  the  real  significance 
of  the  apparition  had  never  struck  me  until  now.  In  his 
father's  time  William  Cassilis  had  been  accustomed  to 
come  and  go  in  that  great  house  without  anyone  being 
the  wiser  of  his  presence,  and  upon  this  occasion,  led 
probably  by  some  freakish  fancy,  he  had  revisited  the 
house  where  he  was  supposed  to  be  dead.  It  was  such  an 
adventure  as  would  appeal  to  his  malignant  nature,  and 
how  could  I  now  doubt  that  he  had  heard  and  seen  every- 
thing that  had  taken  place  between  my  lord  and  myself? 

If  my  presentiment  was  well  founded  this  was  the 
position  in  which  I  was  placed,  and  the  mind  is  so  con- 
stituted that  this  new  calamity  completely  dwarfed  for 
the  time  all  my  other  troubles  and  centred  my  hopes  and 
fears  entirely  upon  myself. 

The  coast  road  from  Langston  to  Heronford  runs 
through  the  village  of  Carnforth,  where  it  makes  a  detour 
of  several  miles,  skirting  the  base  of  the  hills  that  there 
rise  against  the  sea,  and  joining  Ley  ton  and  Amberley  in 
the  chain  of  communication.  When  I  was  deposited  at 
the  door  of  the  "  Thatched  House  "  my  conductors  un- 
yoked the  mare  from  the  cart  and  sat  down  to  a  can  of 
beer  in  the  common  room,  keeping  their  eyes,  as  I  felt, 
on  me  all  the  time.  I  do  not  know  whether  they  had 
been  able  to  communicate  with  the  landlord  without  my 
seeing,  or  whether  he  already  had  his  instruction,  but  he 


LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR  233 

seemed  perfectly  to  understand  the  situation,  and  treated 
me  very  dryly  and  with  the  scantiest  hospitality.  I  had 
called  for  some  luncheon,  for  it  is  a  walk  of  nine  miles 
to  Heronford,  and  there  is  no  other  house  upon  the  road 
where  it  would  be  possible  for  me  to  get  any  refresh- 
ment; but  he  seemed  unwilling  at  first  to  supply  my 
wants,  and  demurred  to  serving  me.  However,  after  a 
little  insistence  upon  my  part  I  at  last  got  what  I  wanted, 
though  I  found  that  my  morning  visit  had  entirely 
robbed  me  of  an  appetite.  But  when  I  came  to  pay  my 
modest  bill  he  spoke  out  his  mind  very  plainly. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you'll  be  for  the  road  back,  Mr. 
Brown,  and  I  hope  you'll  put  out  your  right  foot  first.  I 
told  you  before  in  a  friendly  way  that  Langston  wasn't  a 
healthy  place,  and  if  you  take  my  advice  it'll  be  a  long 
time  before  you  pay  us  a  visit  again." 

"  You  seem  to  be  an  honest  fellow,"  I  said,  "  and  I 
should  like  to  know  what  you  have  against  me.  I  haven't 
grumbled  over  your  charges,  and  when  a  man  keeps  an 
inn  he  usually  likes  to  see  his  guests  coming  and  not 
leaving  him." 

"  Oh  !  I'm  not  saying  that  I  am  different  from  other 
people,  but  there  are  guests  and  guests.  I've  nothing 
against  yourself;  you  seem  to  be  an  honest,  harmless  sort 
of  gentleman,  but  I  can't  afford  to  let  you  in,  and  the  next 
time  you  come  round  these  ways  my  orders  are  to  show 
you  the  other  side  of  the  door." 

"  That  is  plain  spoken  at  any  rate.  But  I  understand 
your  position.  I  know  you  are  Mr.  Weston's  tenant." 

"  I  am  nobody's  tenant  but  my  own,  thank  God,  for 
my  wife  who  came  from  Amberley  way  had  a  little  for- 


234 


HERONFORD 


tune  of  her  own,  and  ready  money  isn't  so  plentiful  in 
these  parts  now  that  it  isn't  welcome.  But  they  are  all 
Mr.  Weston's  men  hereabouts,  and  we  must  live  on  good 
terms  with  our  neighbours.  You  don't  think  that  Mr. 
Weston  would  interfere  with  my  customers,  the  Lord 
love  you — not  he — he  is  the  most  open-handed  gentle- 
man in  the  world — but  folk  here  have  a  suspicion,  some- 
how, that  you  and  he  aren't  friendly,  and  that's  enough. 
It's  as  much  as  my  house  is  worth  to  serve  you,  and 
though  I'm  sorry  for  it,  I  can't  do  it  again." 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  complain  in  the  least  of  your  treat- 
ment j  I  shouldn't  like  to  think  you  had  suffered  on  my 
account." 

"  Oh  !  it's  all  right  now  that  you  are  going,  and  if  you 
will  take  the  advice  of  a  friend  you  won't  come  back  to 
Langston  till  you  have  made  your  peace  with  some  peo- 
ple we  won't  talk  about.  At  any  rate,  I  would  rather 
you  didn't  come  to  the  4  Thatched  House.' ' 

Of  course  I  was  perfectly  aware  that  it  was  due  to  Mr. 
Weston's  interference  that  he  had  already  turned  me  out 
of  his  house,  and  it  was  the  same  influence  now  which  led 
him  to  look  so  eagerly  for  my  departure.  But  I  was  unable 
to  find  fault  with  his  loyalty  where  his  interest  was  so 
deeply  concerned,  and  when  I  took  my  road  homeward, 
to  his  evident  satisfaction,  we  parted  on  perfectly  amicable 
terms.  The  two  men  who  had  accompanied  me  to  the 
"  Thatched  House"  had  evidently  not  entirely  completed 
their  instructions  when  they  set  me  down  before  the  door 
of  that  primitive  hostelry.  After  I  had  gone  some  dis- 
tance on  my  way  I  turned  round  and  saw  them  watching 
me  from  the  hill  above  Langston,  until  I  finally  lost  sight 


LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR  235 

of  them  at  the  turn  of  the  road.  But  I  took  this  only 
for  a  piece  of  Mr.  Weston's  bravado,  though,  indeed,  my 
mind  was  at  the  time  so  fully  occupied  by  other  subjects 
of  interest  that  I  did  not  give  the  circumstance  so  much 
thought  as  I  might  otherwise  have  done. 

As  you  know  the  road  from  Langston  makes  a  long 
elbow  at  Carnforth  before  it  reaches  Heronford,  but  there 
is  a  shorter  way,  usually  taken  by  those  travelling  lightly 
like  myself,  across  the  sands  and  along  the  beaten  road  by 
the  cliffs.  The  way  ran,  indeed,  it  still  runs,  for  I  can  see 
it  as  I  write,  through  the  meadow  by  the  captain's  garden 
and  past  the  gate  that  leads  to  his  house.  There  were 
several  reasons  why  I  was  at  the  moment  unwilling  to 
take  this  way,  for  I  had  not  the  heart  just  now  to  see  either 
Victory  or  her  father ;  but  my  anxiety  to  verify  my  fears 
was  so  great  that  I  did  not  care  to  lose  time  in  taking  the 
longer  road,  and  I  accordingly  leaped  over  the  stile  and 
made  my  way  through  the  meadows.  I  hoped  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life  that  I  might  be  able  to  pass  the  house  un- 
observed, and  I  thought  for  the  moment  I  was  about  to 
succeed.  Though  the  door  lay  open  there  was  no  one  in 
the  porch,  and  the  little  garden  was  deserted  but  for  the 
presence  of  the  Saucy  Aretbusa.  I  passed  the  gate  with  the 
feeling  that  I  might  never  enter  it  again  and  reached  the 
bridge,  where  I  stopped  for  a  moment  to  look  back  at  the 
house  that  I  loved,  and  the  shady  garden  where  my  hap- 
piest hours  had  been  spent. 

I  stood  looking  back  on  it  all  for  a  moment  or  two,  and 
then  lifting  my  knapsack,  that  I  had  rested  on  the  parapet 
of  the  bridge,  turned  away  and  began  to  resume  my  jour- 
ney. But  I  had  hardly  gone  more  than  a  step  or  two 


236  HERONFORD 

when  I  heard  my  name  called  behind  me,  and  turning 
round  saw  Victory  running  swiftly  down  the  walk  from 
the  house,  her  shining  brown  curls  uncovered,  and  her 
red  stockings  twinkling  under  her  white  dress. 

"Jack!     Jack!" 

I  again  set  down  my  knapsack  and  waited  where  I  was 
standing  till  she  came  up  to  me.  Never  had  I  so  wanted 
to  take  her  in  my  arms  and  pour  out  all  my  trouble  to  her 
patient,  loving  ears. 

u  Well,  madcap,"  I  said  gravely,  holding  out  my  hand 
as  she  came  up,  "  I  see  that  it  is  not  possible  for  anyone 
to  pass  your  door  without  discovery." 

"  You  have  never  tried  to  do  that  before.  Jack." 

"  But  it  is  different  now." 

"  Is  it  different  ?     Shall  I  go  back  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  far  better  for  yourself,  Victory,  that  you 
did.  A  poor  beggar  like  me  has  no  right  to  mix  you  up 
in  his  troubles  or  ask  you  to  take  a  share  in  his  misfortunes." 

"  Of  course  you  have  no  right.  Do  you  think  a 
woman  ever  loves  a  man  when  he  is  unfortunate  ?  " 

«  Well " 

"  Or  do  you  think  she  loves  him  better  when  he  has 
trouble  that  he  can  share  with  her  ?  What  do  you  think, 
Jack  ? " 

"  I  think  you  are  far  too  good  for  me,  Victory." 

"  And  I  think  you  are  a  very  foolish  lover.  If  I  were 
a  man  I  should  love  differently — perhaps.  But  I  am 
only  a  very  foolish  girl,  and — I  see  by  your  face  that  you 
need  comfort,  Jack.  Tell  me  what  is  wrong ;  I  was  not 
mistaken  ?  " 

"Everything  is  wrong,  but  you  were  not  mistaken. 


LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR  237 

There  is  no  doubt  that  William  Cassilis  is  alive  and 
may  be  found  at  Langston." 

"  Oh  !  I  was  sure  of  that ;  I  was  sure  of  that,"  she 
cried  joyfully.  "  Then  everything  is  right  and  you  have 
found  him,  as  I  knew  you  would." 

"  I  have  bungled  everything  from  the  beginning,  and  I 
am  further  from  the  end  of  the  difficulty  than  I  was  when 
I  started.  I  have  learned  nothing  ;  I  have  not  gained  a 
shred  of  proof  that  people  would  not  laugh  at,  and  I  have 
thrown  away  the  advantage  that  I  had  at  first." 

"  But  the  great  thing  is  that  he  is  alive.  We  are 
strong  in  that,  dear;  we  can  afford  to  wait." 

"  Your  eyes  shine  like  stars  of  strength,  Victory.  Per- 
haps I  should  have  waited.  But  you  don't  know  every- 
thing." 

"  I  know,  sir,  we  must  fight  our  ship  to  the  last 
plank,"  cried  the  sailor's  daughter,  "  and  then,  Jack,  we 
can  go  to  the  bottom  together,  but  not  till  then.  Now 
tell  me  all  the  foolish  things  you  have  done." 

It  gave  me  heart  to  see  her  steadfast  eyes,  and  hear  the 
ring  of  loyal  faith  in  her  sweet  voice.  Beginning  at  the 
beginning  I  told  her  how  I  had  gone  to  the  village  of 
Langston,  and  how  probably  during  my  whole  stay  there 
Mr.  Weston  was  aware  of  the  inquiries  I  was  making ; 
how  I  had  at  last  recklessly  made  up  my  mind  to  visit  the 
Priory,  and  of  all  that  had  taken  place  there  down  to 
Weston's  final  threat  that  he  had  not  yet  exhausted  his 
enmity  against  me.  But  I  carefully  avoided  making  any 
reference  to  the  further  direction  my  fears  had  taken,  or  to 
that  new  misfortune  that  threatened  me  with  ruin  even 
after  this  horrible  accusation  had  been  satisfactorily  cleared 


238  HERONFORD 

up.  She  listened  to  me  without  interruption  until  I  had 
finished,  and  then  she  stood  for  some  time  without  speak- 
ing, apparently  considering  seriously  what  I  had  told  her. 

"  I  think  you  did  what  I  should  have  expected  you  to 
do,"  she  said  at  length  ;  "  it  was  not  perhaps  very  wisely 
done,  but  it  was  honest  and  courageous.  How  can  he 
do  you  any  further  injury  ?  " 

"  That  is  not  my  secret,  dear,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  yet. 
But  perhaps  it  was  not  altogether  an  idle  threat — he  may 
have  had  it  in  his  power  to  do  me  a  serious  injury." 

"  But  not  in  a  way  that  would  strike  at  your  character 
or  good  name — not  that  ?  Then  we  need  not  care ;  let  him 
do  the  worst  he  can.  But,  John,  I  can  see  one  thing." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  That  we  are  not  strong  enough  to  win  this  fight  our- 
selves. You  must  have  the  advice  of  someone  who  has 
more  experience,  and  someone  who,  perhaps,  does  not  love 
you  as  well  as  I  do.  He  will  be  able  to  see  more  clearly." 

"  There  is  only  one  person  I  can  think  of  who  might 
be  able  to  assist  me.  I  mean  Mr.  Stone,  the  lawyer  at 
Fareham,  who  is  my  friend,  I  am  sure,  and  a  very  honest 
man." 

"  Then  you  must  lose  no  time  in  seeing  him,  and  in 
the  meantime  I  want  you  to  promise  me  one  thing." 

"  If  you  do  not  ask  too  much." 

"  It  is  not  a  great  deal — only  that  you  will  not  run 
any  risk  till  you  have  succeeded.  I  am  beginning  to 
grow  afraid ;  I  am  sure  you  are  in  danger." 

"  I  thought  that  you  had  all  the  courage,  Victory. 
What  is  the  danger  that  you  foresee  ? " 

"  I  have  more  courage  than  wisdom,"  she  said,  "  or  I 


LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR  239 

could  help  you  better.  But  I  am  sure  the  man  who  tried 
to  kill  your  good  name  would  not  hesitate  to  attempt 
your  life.  Tell  me  this,"  she  cried  suddenly,  "  is  there 
anyone  who  would  gain  anything,  or  thinks  he  would  gain 
anything,  if  you  were  removed  ?  " 

I  hesitated  before  I  spoke  and  then  I  answered  — 

"  Perhaps — yes." 

"  Ah  !  I  thought  as  much — I  was  sure  of  it.  And  you 
think  there  is  no  danger — you  think  it  is  only  my  fear  for 
you  when  I  say  I  am  sure  that  there  is  ?  You  will 
promise  me  to  be  careful  ?  And  listen,  John  ;  you  will 
promise  to  let  me  hear  from  you  every  day  or  I  shall 
imagine  they  have  succeeded  ?  " 

"  That  will  be  an  easy  thing  to  do,  I  can  promise  that. 
What  would  your  father  say  if  he  knew  you  had  such 
thoughts  about  his  friend  ?  " 

"  A  woman's  instinct  is  clearer  than  a  man's  reason,  and 
you  must  not  laugh  at  me.  I  feel  that  you  are  in  danger." 

"The  danger,  Victory,  is  not  of  the  kind  you  think, 
but  I  promise  to  be  careful.  And  you  still  love  me 
though  I  have  not  succeeded  ?  " 

"  Love  is  only  itself,  and  doesn't  ask  whether  you 
have  succeeded  or  failed." 

When  I  had  left  her  and  was  once  more  on  my  way 
home  I  asked  myself  whether  such  steadfast  faith,  such 
sweet  unflinching  loyalty  was  not  in  itself  compensation 
enough  for  any  suffering  that  I  might  endure  or  for  any 
prospective  loss  I  might  sustain. 

But  I  did  not  share  her  fears  for  myself  that  there  was 
any  personal  violence  to  be  dreaded  at  the  hands  of  my 
enemies.  If  they  had  succeeded  in  accomplishing  what 


24o  HERONFORD 

I  feared,  they  had  already  done  as  much  as  malice  could 
suggest,  and  had  nothing  or  little  to  gain  by  taking  me 
out  of  the  way.  On  my  lord's  death  I  would  be  as 
powerless  as  if  my  proofs  had  never  had  existence,  and 
any  claim  that  I  might  be  foolish  enough  to  make  would 
only  recoil  upon  my  own  head.  I  felt,  indeed,  that 
neither  Weston  nor  his  less  capable  confederate  would 
hesitate  at  any  step,  but  I  was  secure  in  the  feeling  that 
personal  injury  to  myself,  while  it  was  fraught  with  pos- 
sible danger  to  them,  could  be  of  no  great  advantage, 
and  that  was  my  best  security. 

I  had  hardly  entered  the  main  hall  of  Heronford  and 
made   a  hurried  enquiry  as  to  the  condition  of  my  lord 
than   Madam    Cassilis    came    to    meet    me,    looking,   I 
thought,  worn  and  haggard.    I  imagined  afterwards  she  was 
relieved  to  see  me,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  notice  my 
formal  greeting  and  spoke  with  her  usual  brusqueness. 

"  You  have  been  travelling,  I  see,  Mr.  Cassilis.  I 
thought  we  should  not  see  you  again." 

"  But  you  see  I  have  returned,  madam." 

"  I  am  not  blind,  sir.  You  care  a  great  deal  for  your 
— master.  You  have  been  absent  for  three  days." 

II  But,  madam,  I  hope  you  will  remember  your  in- 
structions.    I  could   not   quarrel  with   them,  and  I  am 
glad  to  hear  my  lord  is  better." 

"  Who  told  you  that  he  is  better  ?  I  cannot  see  that 
he  is  greatly  changed,  but  I  do  not  think  he  suffers." 

"  I  suppose  I  need  not  ask,"  I  said.  "  Will  you  per- 
mit me  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  Not  a  moment  if  I  could  help  it,  for  I  am  frank  with 
you,  but  my  lord  wishes  it,  and  that  is  enough.  You  had 


LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR  241 

better  see  him  at  once,  for  he  appears  to  care  less  for  his 
sister  than  for  his — "  and  without  finishing  the  sen- 
tence she  turned  abruptly  upon  her  heel  and  left  me. 
Without  waiting  a  moment  I  ran  to  my  lord's  room,  and 
finding  the  door  closed  knocked  softly.  The  nurse 
whom  I  had  left  in  charge  opened  the  door,  and  upon 
seeing  me  expressed  her  delight  in  a  whisper. 

"  I'm  glad  you  are  come,  sir.  He  has  been  calling  for 
you  for  two  days,  and  I  am  sure  has  been  fretting  his 
heart  out.  It  has  been  l  John,  John,'  all  the  time.  His 
eyes  are  shut,  but  I  don't  think  he  is  sleeping." 

I  stole  on  tip-toe  into  the  room  and  took  up  my  place 
at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  My  lord's  white  face  was  sunk 
among  the  pillows  and  his  eyes  were  closed,  but  his  face 
did  not  wear  any  further  sign  of  suffering  than  that  it  was 
shrunk  and  wasted.  When  I  had  seen  him  before  he  had 
been  respiring  heavily,  but  he  was  now  breathing  softly. 
The  light  in  the  room  was  quite  dim,  for  the  blinds  had 
been  drawn,  and  I  stood  watching  him  where  I  stood  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed  for  some  time.  After  a  little  the 
nurse  came  up  and  joined  me,  and  then  I  think  she  made 
a  little  noise,  for  he  opened  his  eyes.  At  first  though  he 
had  been  staring  at  me  steadily  he  did  not  appear  to  rec- 
ognise me,  for  he  made  no  sign  and  the  expression  upon 
his  face  did  not  alter.  I  imagined  that  if  in  my  absence 
he  had  regained  consciousness  his  mind  had  again  relapsed 
into  the  blank  into  which  it  had  fallen,  and  I  stole  quietly 
round  to  the  side  of  the  bed  and  took  his  nerveless  hand 
in  my  own.  But  I  found  that  his  hand  returned  my  pres- 
sure, and  bringing  my  face  close  to  his  own  I  heard  him 
whisper,  though  with  great  difficulty  and  with  a  catching 


242  HERONFORD 

in  his  throat,  "John,  John."  I  found  that  this  was 
almost  the  only  word  he  could  utter ;  and  that  though 
his  mind  was  now  clear  on  one  side  he  had  altogether 
lost  the  power  of  motion,  and  that  a  paralysis  nearly  as 
complete  had  fallen  upon  his  speech. 

I  sat  down  upon  the  bedside  and  remained  for  some 
time  in  silence,  holding  his  hand  in  mine.  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  I  knew,  yet  I  was  certain  he  was  glad  to  see  me, 
and  that  he  was  happier  now  that  I  had  come  back.  I 
had  longed  for  the  moment  when  he  could  again  under- 
stand me,  and  now  that  the  time  had  come  I  was  almost 
afraid  to  break  the  news  to  him  that  was  trembling  on  my 
tongue.  Yet  I  felt  whatever  happened  he  must  hear  the 
good  news  before  he  died,  and  that  joy  is  a  medicine  that 
seldom  kills.  I  therefore  motioned  the  nurse  from  the 
room,  and  waiting  till  she  had  closed  the  door  behind  her 
I  bent  over  him  and  kissed  him  on  the  forehead. 

"  You  can  hear  and  understand  me,  my  lord  ? " 

A  lingering  pressure  upon  my  hand  was  the  only  answer. 

"  I  am  going  to  make  you  very  happy,"  I  said.  "You 
must  prepare  yourself  to  hear  good  news — wonderful 
news — and  I  am  not  sure  whether  you  can  bear  it." 

He  turned  his  dull  eyes  toward  me  and  gazed  at  me 
with  a  fixed  look ;  I  wondered  whether  he  perfectly  un- 
derstood me. 

"  You  can  hardly  believe,"  I  went  on,  "  what  I  have  to 
tell  you,  but  it  is  true,  perfectly  true.  There  is  no  more 
doubt  about  it  than  that  I  am  sitting  here  beside  you. 
Think,  my  dear  lord,  of  what  I  know  you  would  like  best 
in  the  world.  It  is  that ;  it  is  that  I  have  to  tell  you. 
Perhaps  we  had  better  wait  till  you  have  thought  what  the 


LOVE  THE  COUNSELLOR  243 

good  news  is  likely  to  be,  for  I  fear  you  cannot  bear  it  now." 

But  I  saw  that  he  understood  me  perfectly.  He  drew 
my  hand  closer  to  him,  and  again,  with  the  catching  in 
his  throat,  he  called  out  my  name. 

"  If  I  thought  you  could  bear  it,"  I  cried.  "  It  is  al- 
most too  good  for  you  to  believe  it.  You  have  been  made 
to  believe  a  lie,  and  I  have  discovered  the  truth — I  and 
another.  Can  you  not  guess  what  that  truth  is  ?  You 
remember  the  night  we  were  together  in  the  Book  Room 
and  what  we  saw  there — that  was  a  part  of  the  lie,  but  it 
began  before  that.  It  began — "  I  could  never  under- 
stand or  explain  it ;  you  may  remain  incredulous  and  de- 
clare that  this  is  only  an  idle  story,  but  so  surely  as  I 
write,  as  I  was  speaking,  my  lord  sat  upright  in  his  bed 
and  gazed  at  me  with  widening  eyes,  from  which  the 
dull,  heavy  stare  had  completely  disappeared. 

"  My  dear  lord,  you  have  been  punished  for  nothing. 
Your  brother  is  not  dead ;  William  Cassilis  is  alive  and 
well." 

I  had  broken  the  news  to  him  far  more  abruptly  than  I 
intended,  for  I  saw  the  effect  I  had  already  produced.  But 
I  thought  now  that  I  had  killed  him.  His  body  seemed 
to  relax ;  he  dropped  my  hand  that  he  had  still  been  hold- 
ing, and  he  made  a  violent  effort  to  speak  that  fell  into  a 
little  choking  gurgle.  Then  quite  plainly  and  altogether 
in  his  natural  voice  he  called  out  "  Thank  God  !  "  and 
fell  back  upon  his  pillows.  I  ran  hastily  to  the  door  and 
called  to  the  nurse,  who  had  been  waiting  in  the  corridor. 
For  a  moment  we  both  thought  he  was  dead,  for  he  made 
no  response  to  our  efforts  to  revive  him,  and  then  gradu- 
ally his  eyes  opened  and  he  raised  his  hand. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A    BLOW    IN    THE    DARK. 

WHEN  I  left  the  sick-room  I  had  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  the  news  which  I  had  broken  so  unskilfully 
had  done  Lord  Heronford  no  injury.  On  the  contrary, 
the  first  shock,  which  had  produced  an  effect  so  extraor- 
dinary, had  seemed  rather  to  have  quickened  his  faculties 
and  to  have  supplied  a  healthful  stimulus.  I  have,  in- 
deed, since  heard  of  cases  in  which  a  sudden  shock  has 
given  the  paralytic  a  complete  command  over  his  useless 
limbs,  but  though  nothing  of  that  kind  happened  here,  a 
slight,  if  transitory,  improvement  was  certainly  notice- 
able. I  was,  however,  forbidden  the  sick-room  when  it 
was  thought  further  excitement  might  prove  injurious  to 
the  patient,  and  I  was  now  at  liberty  to  pursue  my  en- 
quiries upon  that  subject  which  had  caused  me  so  much 
uneasiness  and  distress. 

I  suppose  years  afterwards  one  likes  to  dwell  on  his 
former  weaknesses  and  his  serious  follies  with  a  mild  com- 
plaisance, whether  because  we  have  a  secret  sympathy  with 
folly,  or  because  we  are  pleased  to  think  we  have  outgrown 
our  weakness.  I  can  now  recall  with  a  smile  the  subter- 
fuges I  adopted  to  gain  a  few  moments  respite  before  I 
entered  the  room  where  I  felt  my  fate  was  to  be  decided. 
One  moment  I  was  flattered  with  the  hope  that  I  was  the 
victim  of  my  own  unfounded  fears ;  the  next  I  was 
plunged  in  the  most  profound  despondency,  and  between 

244 


A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK  245 

fear  and  hope  I  hung  vacillating,  hardly  daring  to  take  the 
decisive  step  that  was  to  resolve  my  doubts.  I  lingered 
on  my  way  down  the  staircase  and  stood  halting  in  the 
corridor,  and  when  I  came  to  the  door  I  walked  two  or 
three  times  past  it  before  I  ventured  to  turn  the  handle. 
When  I  had  thrown  open  the  door  I  stood  with  a  beating 
heart  upon  the  threshold ;  so  far  as  I  could  see  nothing 
had  been  disturbed,  but  everything  was  as  I  had  last  left 
it.  My  papers  lay  in  order  upon  the  table ;  the  silver 
candlesticks  did  not  appear  to  have  been  moved ;  and  the 
books  of  account  which  usually  lay  upon  the  escritoire 
were  in  their  usual  position.  When  I  noticed  this  last 
circumstance  I  gave  an  audible  sigh  of  relief;  I  could  al- 
most have  cried  out  with  joy ;  after  all  I  had  been  pur- 
sued by  a  shadow  and  tortured  by  my  own  foolish  fancy. 
I  was  at  last  able  to  breathe  freely. 

I  was  so  certain  now  that  all  was  right  that  I  did  not 
at  once  make  any  closer  scrutiny,  but  sat  down  at  the 
table  thinking  how  different  my  state  of  mind  would  have 
been  had  my  fears  been  well  founded. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  by  some  chance  my  eyes 
fell  on  a  handkerchief  lying  close  to  the  escritoire.  I  do 
not  know  what  possessed  me  but  I  rose  from  my  seat, 
and  walking  across  the  room  lifted  it  from  the  floor.  It 
did  not  belong  either  to  my  lord  or  myself;  it  was  too 
fine  to  have  been  the  property  of  a  servant,  Then  I 
turned  it  over  and  examined  it ;  embroidered  in  one  cor- 
ner were  the  letters  "  W.B.C."  At  the  sight  I  turned 
hot  and  cold  in  the  same  instant.  My  hand  trembled  so 
much  that  I  could  hardly  take  the  key  from  my  pocket, 
and  with  difficulty  was  able  to  fit  it  into  the  lock.  But 


246  HERONFORD 

I  could  not  turn  the  key  at  all.  I  imagined  at  first  that  it 
was  my  excitement  that  prevented  me,  but  I  was  very 
soon  convinced  that  the  lock  had  been  tampered  with. 
Then  I  saw  that  the  wood  had  been  split  near  the  hinges, 
and  hastily  taking  hold  of  the  lid  that  came  off  easily  in 
my  hands.  My  worst  fears  were  realised.  A  single 
glance  showed  me  that — my  ruin  was  complete  !  The 
other  papers  did  not  appear  to  have  been  disturbed,  or  if 
they  had,  had  been  laid  back  again  in  their  place  as  though 
the  thief  had  lingered  over  his  work,  but  the  packet  was 
gone.  I  knew  that  I  need  search  for  it  no  further ;  I 
knew  where  it  had  been  laid  before  my  lord  had  handed 
me  the  key  ;  and,  alas  !  I  was  only  too  certain  where  it 
had  gone.  I  let  the  lid  fall  from  my  hands  with  a  crash  ; 
I  was  paralysed  by  the  blow,  and  stood  staring  at  the 
wreck  before  me  like  one  distraught  by  his  grief. 

Still  you  must  not  think  that  after  the  first  stunning 
moment  I  was  so  beaten  to  the  earth  that  I  resigned  my- 
self to  the  worst  or  resolved  hopelessly  to  abandon  the 
field  to  my  enemies.  Perhaps  it  was  partly  resentment, 
partly  pride,  but  I  was  determined  that  I  would  not  sur- 
render, even  to  this  blow,  until  I  could  fight  no  further 
and  had  exhausted  every  means.  But  what  was  I  to  do  ? 
To  whom  should  I  turn  for  assistance  and  advice  ?  The 
very  nature  of  the  papers  prevented  me  from  publishing 
my  loss,  or  giving  my  full  confidence  to  any  one  with 
whom  I  was  acquainted.  Unless  I  extended  that  com- 
plete confidence  I  felt  that  I  could  not  hope  for  help ; 
my  own  knowledge  of  the  perpetrators  was  founded  upon 
the  secret  those  papers  contained. 

But  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  rest,  and  my  thoughts 


A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK 


247 


turned  instinctively  to  Mr.  Stone,  in  whose  prudence  and 
common  sense  I  had  the  utmost  confidence,  and  who 
perhaps  might  be  able  to  assist  me  with  his  advice.  I 
had  no  sooner  thought  of  him  than  I  made  up  my  mind 
not  to  lose  any  further  time.  Late  as  it  was  in  the  after- 
noon I  resolved  to  ride  at  once  to  Fareham,  and  put  the 
matter  before  him  as  fully  as  I  dared.  I  had  no  idea 
what  advice  he  could  give  me  or  what  assistance  he  was 
able  to  render,  but  I  felt  that  if  any  one  could  be  of  use 
it  was  he,  and  at  the  worst  I  would  lose  nothing  by  see- 
ing him.  Accordingly  without  losing  any  time  I  had 
my  horse  saddled,  and  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  was 
in  the  courtyard  booted  and  spurred  for  my  journey.  It 
happened  to  be  John  Transome,  a  great  favourite  of  mine, 
who  was  holding  my  horse,  and  he  expressed  his  surprise 
that  I  was  riding  so  late  and  asked  whether  he  would  sit 
up  for  me. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  must,  John,"  I  said  as  I  took  the 
reins  in  my  hand,  "  for  I  cannot  be  back  much  before 
midnight.  I  am  riding  to  Fareham  on  a  matter  of  busi- 
ness and  may  be  detained  an  hour  or  two." 

"  If  you  are  coming  back  to-night,  sir,  you  will  have 
to  be  careful.  It  is  likely  to  prove  a  very  black  night 
and  there  won't  be  any  moon." 

"  Old  Whitefoot  could  find  his  way  back  alone,"  I 
said.  "  I  am  quite  certain  to  be  back  to-night." 

The  steady  old  horse  must  have  wondered  what  new 
and  evil  spirit  had  entered  into  his  master,  for  I  certainly 
did  not  spare  him,  and  when  I  got  to  Fareham  he  was 
covered  with  a  lather  of  foam.  It  is  eighteen  miles  from 
Heronford  to  Fareham  by  the  high-road,  but  though  I 


248  HERONFORD 

travelled  faster  than  I  had  ever  done  in  my  life  the  way 
had  never  seemed  so  long.  It  was  not  that  I  was  anxious 
to  finish  my  errand,  or  that  I  was  likely  to  gain  much 
when  it  was  finished,  but  in  my  present  state  of  mind  I 
felt  the  absolute  necessity  for  doing  something,  and  in 
some  way  or  other  that  I  was  losing  what  might  prove 
precious  time. 

It  was  already  dark  when  I  got  to  Mr.  Stone's  door, 
and  having  tied  my  horse  to  the  railing,  I  went  up  the 
steps  and  plied  the  brass  knocker  three  or  four  times  with- 
out compelling  any  answer.  This  was  so  unlike  the 
methodical  little  bachelor's  household  ways  that  I  began 
to  think  there  was  no  one  within,  when  the  door  was 
opened  by  a  comely  maid  servant  whose  cheeks  were  very 
red,  and  who  seemed  not  a  little  confused  at  my  summons. 

"  Is  Mr.  Stone  within  ?  "  I  said. 

"  He  is  not  at  home,  sir.     He  left  the  house  at  six." 

"  When  do  you  expect  him  back  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir  ;  I  am  not  sure.  He  goes  usually 
to  the  vicar's  in  the  evening,  but  he  went  off"  in  the  gig." 

"  And  you  have  no  idea  at  what  time  he  will  return  ?  " 

"No,  sir,  I  can't  say  ;  but,  perhaps,  sir,  that  is " 

"Well?"  I  asked. 

"  Perhaps,  sir,"  she  said,  with  what  I  thought  was  a  tell- 
tale blush  deepening  on  her  cheek,  "  you  would  see  John 
— John  Vanney — if  you  would  not  mind.  John " 

"  I  will  see  any  one,"  I  said,  "  who  can  tell  me  what 
I  want — John  Vanney  or  any  one  else." 

I  followed  her  into  the  dining-room  feeling  terribly  de- 
pressed by  my  disappointment,  and  a  few  minutes  after 
she  had  left  me  a  young  man  made  his  appearance,  whom 


A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK  249 

I  thought  I  had  seen  once  or  twice  in  Mr.  Stone's  office. 
He  had  evidently  made  a  very  hurried  toilet  for  the  mark 
of  the  wet  brush  was  apparent  on  his  hair,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment he  seemed  almost  as  self-conscious  as  the  maid  had 
done,  but  he  was  not  so  long  in  regaining  his  natural 
confidence.  He  was  afflicted  with  an  atrocious  squint, 
but  appeared  very  good-natured,  and  was  certainly  not 
wanting  in  a  moderate  amount  of  self-possession. 

"  I  am  Mr.  S-S-Stone's  clerk,  sir.  P-p-perhaps  you 
r-remember  to  have  s-seen  me  ?  " 

Some  of  his  words  he  took  with  a  gallop,  running  them 
into  one  another,  and  others  he  took  with  a  little  gulp, 
but  upon  the  whole  his  rate  of  progression  was  slow  and 
exasperating. 

"  Yes,"  I  said.  "  I  remember  you.  When  shall  I  be 
able  to  see  Mr.  Stone  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  w-w-word  I  don't  know,  M-M-Mr.  Cassilis. 
He's  g-gone  to  make  old  M-Mrs.  C-Cooksley's  will,  and 
I  d-don't  think  he'll  b-be  back  m-much  before  morning." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  I  said.  "  I  wanted  to  see 
him  upon  important  business." 

"  I  b-beg  your  p-pardon,  Mr.  Cassilis,  b-but  is  it  about 
the  n-new  leases,  sir  ?  You  may  not  t-think  it  b-but  I 
know  as  m-much  about  them  as  M-Mr.  Stone.  He 
t-trusts  me  with  everything." 

"  It  is  not  about  the  new  leases.  I  want  to  see  him 
on  quite  a  different  business." 

Notwithstanding  his  unpromising  appearance,  Mr. 
Vanney  showed  a  natural  aptitude  for  his  profession. 

"N-not  the  new  l-leases,  sir?  I  b-beg  your  pardon. 
I  b-believe  I  understand.  We  heard  L-Lord  Heronford 


25o  HERONFORD 

was  ill.  I  d-do  that  b-business  regularly  now,  M-Mr. 
Cassilis,  and  my  c-con-v-vey-ancing  is  n-nearly  as  good 
as  M-Mr.  Stone's.  If  the  m-matter  is  urgent  I  c-can  go 
with  you  m-myself,  and  you  may  be  s-satisfied  that  the  d -de- 
vises, b-bequests,  and  limitations  will  be  q-quite  correct." 

"  I  don't  doubt  your  knowledge,  Mr.  Vanney,  but  I 
won't  trouble  you.  My  business  was  with  Mr.  Stone, 
but  since  he  is  not  likely  to  be  home  to-night  I  suppose 
I  must  wait  until  the  morning.  Will  you  be  good 
enough  to  tell  him  that  I  shall  be  with  him  at  eleven 
o'clock  to-morrow,  and  that  it  is  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance I  should  see  him  ?  " 

"  I  will  c-convey  your  m-message  to  him,  sir,  and  I 
am  s-sorry  that  I  c-can't  be  of  no  use  to  you.  You  will 
be  s-staying  in  Fareham  to-night,  sir  ? " 

That  was  my  intention  when  I  unloosed  my  horse  from 
the  railing  where  I  had  tied  him,  but  I  do  not  know  what 
caused  me  to  alter  my  mind.  I  had  thought  of  putting 
up  at  the  "  Green  Man  "  to  save  myself  the  fatigue  of 
riding  back  the  next  morning,  and  I  had  even  ridden  some 
way  in  that  direction,  when  I  suddenly  touched  Whitefoot 
with  the  spur  and  turned  his  head  in  the  direction  of 
Heronford.  Life  is  made  up  of  these  impulses,  and  I 
have  sometimes  found  that  the  burden  of  the  future  turns 
on  such  undetermined  acts. 

When  I  left  Fareham  behind  me  the  night  had  grown 
very  dark,  with  a  heavy  mist  rising  that  threatened  to  settle 
into  rain.  But  I  did  not  trouble  about  the  darkness,  for 
my  horse  was  very  surefooted  and  there  is  a  fine  broad 
road  all  the  way  to  the  hamlet  of  Amberley  West,  where 
you  turn  off  the  high-road  to  Heronford.  On  the  whole 


A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK  251 

I  rather  enjoyed  the  solitude  and  darkness,  and  the  time 
passed  much  more  quickly  than  it  had  done  on  my  mad 
gallop  to  Fareham.  There  was  something  congenial  to  my 
mood  in  this  midnight  isolation,  but,  indeed,  there  was  no 
health  in  my  thoughts,  and  none  of  that  steady  fortitude 
with  which  a  man  should  face  the  frown  of  evil  days.  My 
mind  was  still  so  agitated  that  the  course  of  my  thoughts 
would  not  run  clear,  but  was  lost  in  the  tumultuous  riot 
of  my  emotions  and  passed  into  gloomy  despondency. 

As  I  came  through  Barstowe  I  heard  a  clock  strike 
eleven,  and  I  quickened  my  pace  a  little  until  I  came  to 
the  turn  at  Amberley  West.  There  rather  a  curious  in- 
cident happened  which  did  not  strike  me  as  being  of 
much  significance  at  the  time,  but  the  meaning  of  which 
I  discovered  afterwards.  As  I  turned  into  the  narrower 
road  a  man  upon  horseback,  apparently  coming  from  the 
opposite  direction,  though  I  had  not  heard  the  sound  of 
the  hoofs,  suddenly  shot  out  of  the  darkness  and  almost 
touched  me  before  I  was  able  to  rein  in  my  horse.  I 
could  not  see  his  face,  nor  did  I  think  he  could  see  mine, 
but  before  I  could  utter  a  word  he  had  wheeled  round 
and  galloped  back  in  the  direction  in  which  I  was  going. 
I  called  after  him,  but  he  returned  no  answer,  and  I 
smiled  when  I  thought  he  had  probably  taken  me  for  a 
highwayman,  though  such  romantic  personages  were  even 
at  that  time  seldom  to  be  met  on  our  roads.  It  never 
occurred  to  me  that  he  had  any  design  upon  myself,  and 
in  the  end  I  ceased  to  think  about  the  incident. 

But  I  soon  came  to  see  that  the  adventures  of  the  night 
were  not  over.  There  is  a  long  hill  with  a  sharp  turn  near 
the  middle  as  you  come  up  to  Heronford,  where  one  must 


252  HERONFORD 

necessarily  travel  slowly.  As  I  came  toward  the  foot  of 
this  hill  I  thought  I  caught  sight  of  a  light  upon  the  road, 
stationary  at  times  and  then  moving  with  a  fitful,  irregular 
motion.  Folk  generally  retire  early  to  rest  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood and  I  could  not  imagine  what  was  wrong, 
especially  as  I  soon  heard  the  sound  of  voices  raised 
either  in  distress  or  anger.  I  was  armed  only  with  my 
heavy  riding-whip,  but  I  pushed  on  more  rapidly,  and  soon 
came  near  enough  to  see  that  this  light  was  carried  by  a 
man  who  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  road.  There  were  a 
couple  of  horses  standing  near  him,  and  close  by  the 
hedge  I  saw  a  heavy  chaise,  the  near  wheels  of  which  had 
evidently  left  the  track  and  gone  into  the  ditch.  I  thought 
at  first  the  chaise  had  been  overturned,  and  when  I  came 
close  I  reined  in  my  horse  and  asked  what  was  wrong. 
At  that  moment  I  saw  another  man  close  to  the  carriage 

D 

and  apparently  endeavouring  to  move  the  chaise  into  the 
road,  but  his  efforts  did  not  seem  to  meet  with  much 
success.  This  man  raised  his  head  where  he  was  stoop- 
ing beside  the  wheel. 

"  It's  easy  to  ask  what  is  wrong,"  he  answered  in  a 
surly  voice,  again  resuming  his  task.  "  I'd  be  more  thank- 
ful if  you'd  step  down  and  give  me  a  hand.  There's  a 
lady  inside  that  is  nearly  frightened  to  death." 

"  She  is  not  hurt,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  More  frightened  than  hurt.  What's  the  use  of  talk- 
ing?" 

"  Not  much,"  I  answered  pleasantly,  "  but  I'll  give 
you  what  assistance  I  am  able.  If  we  can't  manage  it  1 
can  bring  you  help  in  a  few  minutes." 

I  dismounted  from  my  horse  thinking  that  at  least  I  had 


A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK  253 

to  do  with  a  very  ill-tempered  fellow,  but  feeling  con- 
cerned for  his  passenger.  I  left  Whitefoot  standing  per- 
fectly steady  on  the  road  and  went  over  and  joined  the 
man  at  the  chaise. 

"  You  can't  see  what  you  have  to  do  in  the  dark,"  I  said. 
"  Bring  over  the  light  and  let  us  see  exactly  what  is  wrong." 

The  man  came  a  little  nearer  with  the  lantern,  and  when 
I  saw  how  matters  stood  a  dark  suspicion  flashed  upon  my 
mind.  There  was  nothing  to  prevent  the  horses  drawing 
the  chaise  out  of  the  few  inches  of  ditch  into  which  the 
wheel  seemed  to  have  slipped;  the  accident  had  been 
planned ;  the  men  were  either  laughing  at  me  or  had  acted 
with  some  much  more  serious  intention.  I  instantly  drew 
back  and  caught  my  riding-whip  firmly  in  my  hand. 

"  What  game  is  this  you  are  playing  ?  "  I  cried. 
"  There  is  nothing  wrong  here,  and " 

Someone  had  been  struck — a  crashing  blow  on  the 
head — struck  in  the  dark  and  without  warning — a  mur- 
derous blow  that  rung  with  a  dull  thud  in  my  ears.  Had 
the  earth  suddenly  become  blood  red,  and  was  it  I — I, 
John  Cassilis — who  was  catching  at  the  empty  air  and  had 
called  out  once  with  that  thrilling,  stifled  cry  for  help  ?  I 
was  not  sure ;  I  did  not  know ;  and  then  I  became  un- 
conscious, and  for  a  long  time  remembered  nothing  more. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE    BIRD    IN    THE    TRAP 

I  DO  not  remember  how  long  I  remained  unconscious, 
but  it  must  certainly  have  been  for  some  hours.  I  have 
a  confused  and  indistinct  recollection  of  the  rough  jolting 
of  the  chaise,  and  of  being  carried  between  a  couple  of 
men  into  a  colder  air  that  set  my  head  throbbing.  But  it 
is  all  a  painful  dream,  and  I  think  that  no  sooner  did  I 
begin  to  come  back  to  consciousness  than  I  would  swoon 
off  again,  for  I  had  little  broken  gleams  of  remembrance 
shut  in  as  suddenly  by  the  blank  of  forgetfulness.  The 
first  thing  I  remember  perfectly  was  lifting  my  hand  to 
my  head  and  finding  it  clotted  with  blood.  I  recollected 
then  that  something  unpleasant  had  happened,  but  at  first 
I  imagined  that  it  was  someone  else  and  not  myself  who 
had  suffered.  It  could  not  be  myself  for  I  felt  no  pain, 
and  though  I  had  a  feeling  of  languor  I  was  almost  happy. 
But  gradually  my  thoughts  became  clearer ;  it  was  my  own 
blood  that  I  felt,  and  myself  who  was  lying  at  my  length 
in  a  bed  of  rustling  straw  ;  it  was  I  who  had  been  struck, 
and — immediately  the  whole  circumstances  were  present 
to  my  mind.  I  did  not  know  whether  my  life  had  been 
aimed  at,  but  certainly  whoever  used  this  violence  had 
been  indifferent  regarding  the  consequences.  The  scheme 
for  removing  me  had  been  deliberately  planned,  and  there 
was  no  doubt  who  were  the  authors  of  the  design  or  of 
the  object  with  which  it  had  been  accomplished.  I  had 
been  struck  down  cruelly — relentlessly — and  wherever  I 

254 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  TRAP  255 

might  be  I  was  still  in  the  hands  of  my  assailants.  And 
whither  had  I  been  carried  ?  What  was  the  place  of  my 
imprisonment  ?  I  raised  myself  on  my  elbow  in  the 
straw  and  looked  round  me ;  then  I  fell  back  upon  the 
bed  with  a  kind  of  groan. 

It  must  have  been  now  some  hours  after  daybreak  for 
three  separate  shafts  of  grey  light  streamed  through  as 
many  little  grated  windows  or  apertures  high  up  in  the  wall 
near  the  ceiling.  The  room  in  which  I  lay  was  evidently 
a  kind  of  cellar,  the  floor  of  which  was  considerably  lower 
than  the  surface  of  the  ground.  The  walls  were  apparently 
very  thick  and  were  built  of  rough  stone,  down  which  here 
and  there  poured  a  little  trickle  of  perspiring  damp.  The 
door  was  reached  by  means  of  a  flight  of  stone  steps,  and 
upon  every  side  of  me  were  piled  up  casks  and  puncheons 
from  which  there  came  a  sickening  smell  of  raw  spirits, 
and  over  which  I  could  hear  the  scurrying  rats.  The  floor 
was  paved  with  broad  stone  flags,  and,  so  far  as  I  could 
see,  the  ceiling  was  composed  of  the  same  material,  but  I 
noticed  that  in  the  centre  of  this  was  a  wide  wooden  trap, 
by  means  of  which  entrance  could  be  gained  from  above. 

Had  I  been  carried  back  to  Langston  ?  or  was  I  con- 
fined in  some  secret  hiding-place  of  the  free  traders  ? 
Was  it  intended  by  my  captors  that  I  should  be  left  here 
to  die  ?  or,  if  not,  what  more  dreadful  fate  was  in  store 
for  me  ?  There  was  no  possibility  of  my  being  traced ; 
it  would  even  be  days  before  I  should  be  missed  at  all. 
Missed !  There  was  probably  no  one  who  would  do 
more  than  coldly  inquire  after  me,  and  then  turn  away 
satisfied  with  the  answer  that  I  could  not  be  found.  Not 
Victory — no,  she  was  different — and  if  the  loyal  old  cap- 


256  HERONFORD 

tain  only  knew  the  truth  !  But  he  would  probably  never 
know  the  whole  truth  now. 

At  first  when  I  recovered  consciousness  my  mind  was 
quite  clear,  but  it  cannot  have  been  long  before  the  fever 
supervened  and  I  was  entirely  prostrated.  My  head  was 
wracked  with  pain ;  I  was  consumed  by  an  intolerable 
thirst,  and  in  my  delirium  I  was  carried  through  intermi- 
nable caverns  of  ice  and  pressed  down  under  suffocating 
avalanches  of  snow. 

I  had  no  idea  how  long  I  lay  in  this  condition ;  it 
seemed  to  me  that  I  passed  through  months  of  torture, 
though  I  discovered  afterwards  that  I  cannot  have  spent 
more  than  four-and-twenty  hours  in  this  way.  As  I  lay 
turning  on  the  straw  I  imagined  that  occasionally  someone 
raised  my  head  and  gave  me  a  drink  from  the  pannikin 
that  was  lying  at  my  side,  and  more  than  once  I  imagined 
that  the  trap-door  in  the  ceiling  had  been  raised  and  that 
someone  had  remained  there  staring  at  me  with  fixed  and 
wide-opened  eyes.  As  my  fever  abated  and  I  came  back 
to  myself  I  thought  it  very  likely  that  in  the  first  matter 
I  had  really  not  been  mistaken,  but  the  latter  I  set  down 
to  mere  delirium,  and  convinced  myself  that  it  was  alto- 
gether a  hallucination. 

It  must  have  been  drawing  toward  evening  for  the 
light  in  the  cellar  was  growing  fainter,  when  I  heard  the 
sound  of  the  door  being  unlocked,  and  presently  someone 
came  cautiously  down  the  steep  flight  of  stone  steps.  I 
looked  up  eagerly,  and  in  the  darkening  twilight  saw  a 
man  carrying  a  platter  and  a  jug,  which  he  set  down  close 
to  me.  I  sat  up  in  the  straw,  but  it  was  too  dark  to  see 
his  face. 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  TRAP  257 

"  I  am  glad,"  I  cried,  "  to  see  the  sight  of  a  fellow- 
being.  For  God's  sake  tell  me  where  I  am  and  how 
long  I  am  to  be  kept  in  this  dungeon." 

"  Till  the  master  can  do  better  for  you.  You  feel 
more  comfortable  ?  I'm  glad  you  can  talk  now.  I 
thought  you  were  going  safe  to  Davy  Jones." 

"  Yes,  I  feel  better,"  I  said,  "  but  am  weak  as  a  child." 

"  Sakes,  you  have  bled  like  a  pig ;  but  that  won't  hurt 
you,  and  you'll  feel  your  feet  under  you  in  no  time. 
The  master  hits  hard  when " 

"  Who  is  your  master  ?  " 

"  You  must  ask  no  questions,  but  I  don't  mind  mak- 
ing you  a  bit  comfortable  if  I  can.  Is  there  anything 
more  I  can  do  for  you — a  rug  or  a  blanket  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  it  is  cold ;  but  I  don't  mind  the  cold. 
There  is  something  you  might  do  for  me  that  I  should 
like  far  better,  and  you  will  be  well  paid  for  it." 

"  What  might  that  be  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  carry  a  message  for  me " 

"  It  can't  be  done  at  no  price.  I  don't  say  that  I'm 
not  sorry  to  see  a  gentleman  down  on  his  luck,  and  I 
wouldn't  mind  being  friendly,  but  here  you  are  and  here 
you  must  bide  till  further  orders.  Take  my  advice  and 
just  make  yourself  as  easy  as  you  can,  for  if  you  once 
cross  the  master  you  won't  go  much  further,  and  you 
may  fare  a  deal  worse." 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  can  be  much  worse.  Tell  me  one 
thing — am  I  in  Langston  Priory  ? " 

"  You  may  spier  at  me  till  Doomsday,  and  as  long  as 
I'm  here  you'll  get  a  civil  answer  and  decent  victuals, 
but  you'll  get  no  information.  I'm  not  responsible  for 


258  HERONFORD 

the  bringing   of  you    here,  but   I   am  responsible  to  see 
that  you  don't  get  out." 

"  At  least,"  I  said,  "  you  will  take  a  message  for  me 
to  your  master  ?  " 

"  Eh  !  I  would  like  to  see  myself  trotting  on  any  such 
fool's  errand.  Man,  if  I  begun  to  carry  messages  to 
him  I  know  what  answer  I'd  be  like  to  get.  No,  no, 
I'll  just  keep  on  the  safe  side  of  him  for  your  sake,  and 
I'll  bring  you  down  a  blanket  and  a  bit  of  a  light  to  pass 
the  time,  though  with  the  rats  running  about  you'll  have 
no  want  for  company." 

The  man  was  evidently  disposed  to  be  friendly  to- 
ward me,  but  was  not  to  be  shaken  in  his  dogged  hon- 
esty to  his  employer,  and  could  be  prevailed  on  to  give 
me  neither  information  nor  assistance. 

He  went  away,  and  in  a  short  time  came  back  with  a 
blanket  and  a  ship's  lantern,  which  he  set  down  on  a 
cask  beside  me.  Nor  did  his  little  attentions  cease  here. 
With  more  skill  and  tenderness  than  I  could  have  ex- 
pected from  him  he  examined  and  bound  up  my  wounded 
head,  and  then  arranged  a  pillow  for  me.  It  was,  per- 
haps, only  a  touch  of  common  humanity  that  prompted 
hita,  but  his  spontaneous  kindness  affected  me. 
;  >  «>Jf  I  am  ever  able  to  thank  you,"  I  said,  "I  won't 
forget  what  you  have  done  for  me." 

u  Hoot !  Hoot  !  it's  just  nothing  at  all.  You're  not 
the"  valuta  of  a  pin  the  worse,  but  you  should  thank  God 
that  He  made  your  skull  so  thick  when  He  fashioned 
youi'"lA>>gbod  thick  head  is  a  gift  in  some  parts,  and  it 
has1  Just  fctood  your  friend  here.  I'll  be  wishing  you  a 
hd  when  I  come  down  to  see  you  in  the 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  TRAP  259 

morning  I'll  be  finding  you  jumping  about  as  merry  as  a 

gng" 

He  again  passed  up  the  stone  staircase  and  secured  the 
door  carefully  after  him,  leaving  me  with  the  light  burn- 
ing and  a  good  deal  easier  in  my  body.  I  lay  back  on 
my  pillow  watching  the  dull  yellow  gleam,  and  listening 
to  the  occasional  drip  of  damp  in  the  further  corner. 
After  a  while  the  rats  that  had  been  disturbed  by  my 
gaoler's  entrance  began  to  come  out  of  their  hiding- 
places  again,  and  sat  watching  me  with  their  bright,  in- 
quisitive eyes  till  they  had  become  accustomed  to  my 
presence,  and  fearlessly  resumed  their  gambols.  I 
thought  that  sleep  was  impossible ;  I  own  that  I  should 
almost  have  been  afraid  to  resign  myself  to  slumber  if  I 
had  thought  it  could  have  visited  me.  A  thousand 
hideous  suggestions  presented  themselves  to  my  mind 
that  I  could  not  banish.  If  I  had  dared  I  should  have 
liked  to  put  out  the  light  and  shut  out  the  sight  of  the 
dreary  stone  walls  and  the  grey  rats  that  tumbled  over 
one  another  on  the  floor. 

At  first  every  sense  was  awake  to  its  full  stretch  and 
span ;  I  was  alive  to  every  sound ;  but  gradually  I  began 
to  grow  drowsy,  and  though  I  struggled  against  the  feeling 
as  long  as  I  was  able  I  fell  into  a  troubled  and  broken 
sleep.  But  it  must  have  been  deeper  than  I  had  imagined, 
and  have  lasted  much  longer.  Indeed,  it  must  have  con- 
tinued several  hours.  I  awakened  with  a  cry,  and  started 
up  on  my  couch.  The  lantern  had  gone  out  and  it  was 
as  black  as  midnight.  The  hoarse,  eldritch  scream  of 
laughter  that  had  awakened  me  still  rang  through  the 
dungeon  and  echoed  upon  every  side  of  me.  I  could 


26o  HERONFORD 

not  tell  from  what  quarter  it  had  come,  but  it  continued 
long  after  I  had  risen  to  my  feet  and  stood  listening  to  it 
with  a  beating  heart.  There  was  no  meaning  in  the 
sound — it  was  wild,  hoarse,  discordant  beyond  descrip- 
tion. I  tried  to  pierce  the  darkness  in  vain,  but  nowhere 
was  there  a  ray  of  light  to  be  seen.  And  then  the  mad 
laughter  died  away  as  suddenly  as  it  had  commenced, 
leaving  me  again  alone  with  the  intolerable  silence. 

I  found  myself  trembling  in  every  nerve ;  I  could  think 
of  no  explanation  of  the  sound.  It  was  impossible  to 
imagine  that  my  enemies  had  added  this  further  torture 
to  my  suffering,  unless  indeed  they  had  desired  to  drive 
me  mad.  Surely  their  fiendish  malice  could  not  have 
driven  them  so  far  as  that ;  and  yet  what  other  solution 
was  there  of  the  mystery  ?  If  I  could  only  have  seen 
what  I  had  to  face  I  felt  that  I  could  bear  anything 
with  equanimity ;  but  the  expectant  fear  that  lives  in 
darkness  laid  entire  hold  upon  me.  I  stood  listening  for 
a  repetition  of  the  sound ;  I  sought  to  catch  the  faintest 
whisper  or  movement — there  was  only  the  silence  of 
death  about  and  around  me. 

Further  rest  was  now  altogether  out  of  the  question, 
and  never  in  my  life  did  I  long  so  eagerly  for  morning. 
I  thought  it  would  never  come,  and  when  at  last  the 
sickly  grey  dawn  began  to  creep  through  the  little  win- 
dows I  welcomed  it  as  the  coming  of  a  friend.  As  that 
kindly  light  grew  and  broadened  I  could  see  nothing  in 
the  cellar  to  account  for  what  I  had  heard ;  nothing  ap- 
peared to  have  been  moved  or  disturbed,  and  certainly 
the  door  had  never  been  opened  or  I  should  have  heard  it. 

I  suppose  it  was  about  eight  o'clock  when  my  gaoler 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  TRAP  261 

of  the  evening  before  made  his  appearance  with  my  break- 
fast. I  found  him  a  thick,  low-set,  sturdy  fellow,  who 
appeared  to  have  something  of  the  sailor  in  his  carriage, 
though  his  dress  was  rather  that  of  an  honest  countryman. 
His  face  was  very  good-natured,  and  a  white  scar  across 
his  cheek  gave  his  countenance  rather  a  humorous  turn. 

"  I  told  you  you'd  be  right  as  a  trivet  this  morning  and 
could  put  your  pins  under  you  like  a  Jack  marine. 
Hope  you  slept  well  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  have  not  slept." 

"  No  ?  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that.  But  then  I  always 
think  myself  the  rats  are  uncanny  bedfellows.  For  my 
part  give  me  a  sonsy " 

"  It  was  not  the  rats,"  I  said ;  "  I  don't  think  I  should 
have  minded  the  rats  so  much.  Have  you  no  idea  of 
what  disturbed  me  during  the  night  ? " 

"  Unless,  maybe,  it  was  the  old  chaps No,  I 

don't  think  they  would  trouble  you  now,  they  have  been 
so  long  under.  I  never  saw  any  sign  of  them  myself. 
You  had  company  then  ? " 

I  told  him  how  much  I  had  been  alarmed  and  what  I 
had  heard,  and  I  could  see  that  he  was  thrown  into 
genuine  perplexity  at  the  news,  and  perhaps  a  little  stirred 
by  superstitious  fear.  It  was  evident  that  he  had  no  ink- 
ling of  the  source  of  the  disturbance,  and  if  a  trick  had 
been  played  upon  me  he  was  certainly  not  a  party  to  it. 

"  I  think  you  must  have  been  dreaming,"  he  said  ;  "  a 
knock  on  the  head  like  this  gives  one  queer  fancies,  and 
I'll  take  my  oath  that  nobody  got  out  or  came  in  since  I 
turned  the  key  in  the  door  last  night  myself.  I  don't 
hold  by  spirits  myself,  leastways  unless  they  run  in  this 


262  HERONFORD 

shape,  though  I'm  not  saying  that  such  things  haven't 
been  seen  by  a  time.  There  was  my  own  aunt  by  mar- 
riage, old  Judy  Pentreath,  saw  the  corpse-light  the  night 
Simon  went  under  in  the  old  Fly  Away — but  then  she 
was  a  Cornish  woman,  and  that  doesn't  count.  No, 
no,  mister,  you  may  take  it  from  me  you  were  dreaming, 
though  if  you  weren't —  Gosh,  I  should  not  like  to 
spend  a  night  here  myself,  and  that's  the  truth  of  it." 

"  I  am  sure  you  wouldn't,"  I  said,  "  and  think  of  my 
case." 

44  That's  between  you  and  the  master,"  he  answered, 
44  and  I  can't  interfere.  You  mustn't  try  on  any  of  your 
soft  sawder  with  me  for  I  can't  and  won't  listen  to  you, 
but  as  I  say,  in  the  way  of  my  duty,  I'll  do  you  a  good 
turn  if  I  can." 

44  You  are  a  good  fellow,  and  I  am  glad  to  have  your 
good-will.  But  you  haven't  thought  you  are  helping  to 
commit  a  felony." 

44  As  like  as  not,"  he  answered  imperturbably,  44  but  I 
always  leave  the  thinking  to  the  master,  and  it  saves  me  a 
world  of  bother.  But  I'll  leave  you  to  your  breakfast,  for 
I'm  sure  there'd  be  more  trouble  still  if  I  listened  to  you." 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  still  a  good  deal  alarmed  by 
my  communication,  for  before  he  left  me  he  made  an  ex- 
amination of  the  cellar  so  far  as  he  was  able,  and  as  he 
went  out  I  saw  him  shaking  his  head,  though  whether  in 
doubt  or  in  pity  I  did  not  know.  I  did  not  think  I  could 
have  eaten  at  all,  yet  when  I  began  I  found  that  I  was 
able  to  make  an  excellent  repast,  and  felt  a  great  deal  the 
better  for  it.  At  least  my  captors  did  not  intend  that  I 
should  starve  to  death.  My  meal  consisted  of  a  rabbit 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  TRAP  263 

pie  excellently  flavoured,  sweet  butter  and  bread,  and  a  jug 
of  generous  beer,  deliciously  cool  and  refreshing.  Cer- 
tainly it  gave  me  fresh  spirit,  and  for  the  first  time  I  began 
to  investigate  more  closely  the  place  of  my  confinement. 
I  dragged  a  couple  of  casks  under  the  window  and,  set- 
ting the  one  upon  the  other,  clambered  up  by  means  of 
the  iron  bar  across  the  aperture  till  I  was  able  to  look 
out.  But  my  view  was  bounded  by  a  sloping  bank  of 
earth  and  a  dense  growth  of  laurel  trees  that  grew  upon 
it,  very  high  and  luxuriant.  I  remembered  that  at  one 
side  of  Langston  Priory  there  was  just  such  a  growth  of 
laurels,  and  I  had  now  no  doubt,  if  I  ever  entertained 
any,  that  that  was  the  place  of  my  imprisonment.  But 
there  was  no  possibility  of  escape  in  this  way,  for  the 
window,  even  if  unguarded,  was  too  narrow  to  admit  my 
body,  and  the  wall  was  built  of  massive  single  stones 
that  could  not  be  dislodged. 

When  I  had  again  descended  to  the  floor  I  examined 
the  walls  where  the  boxes  and  casks  left  me  room,  but  I 
could  find  no  other  door  than  that  which  was  reached  by 
means  of  the  stone  steps.  This  door  also  I  had  the 
curiosity  to  examine,  and  I  found  that  it  must  have  been 
of  extreme  age,  but  was  so  closely  studded  with  great  nails 
and  strips  of  iron  as  to  be  almost  composed  of  metal. 

I  sat  down  upon  the  lowest  step  that  led  to  this  door, 
and  by  the  mearest  chance  my  eye  happened  to  light  upon 
the  trap  in  the  ceiling,  the  existence  of  which  I  had  al- 
together forgotten.  It  flashed  upon  me  at  once  that  it 
must  have  been  by  this  means  that  my  mysterious  visitor 
of  last  night  had  succeeded  in  alarming  me.  There  was 
a  ring  in  the  centre  of  the  wood  by  means  of  which  the 


264  HERONFORD 

trap  could  be  let  down  from  the  inside,  and  I  resolved  to 
take  an  early  opportunity  of  examining  it,  for  I  could 
easily  reach  it  in  the  same  way  that  I  had  reached  the 
window.  There  was  no  definite  thought  of  escape  in 
my  mind,  as  I  was  sure  that  every  possible  means  had 
been  taken  to  prevent  that,  but  I  was  visited  by  faint  and 
shadowy  gleams  of  that  hope  that  keeps  a  man's  spirit  and 
heart  alive.  Something  unforeseen  might  happen — I  could 
hardly  tell  what.  Whoever  had  opened  the  door  might 
leave  it  unsecured  imagining  I  could  not  reach  it,  or  after 
all  I  might  find  the  means  of  prevailing  upon  the  good- 
nature of  my  gaoler,  whose  sympathy  I  already  seemed 
to  have  won.  At  any  rate,  whatever  fate  was  in  store 
for  me,  it  was  hardly  likely  that  I  should  be  kept  here 
long,  and  in  the  turn  and  change  of  fortune  — 

Surely  the  trap  had  moved ;  surely  the  heavy  frame  had 
changed  its  position ;  surely  I  now  heard  the  sound  of 
footsteps  on  the  floor  above  !  I  sat  motionless,  filled  with 
expectation,  and  almost,  I  confess,  with  dread.  It  was 
not  merely  fancy ;  my  senses  had  not  played  me  false. 
I  saw  the  trap-door  slowly  raised  and  a  bright  ray  of 
sunshine  streamed  in  from  above.  Finally  the  trap  fell 
back  with  a  clang,  and  a  moment  after  there  appeared  at 
the  opening  the  face  that  I  imagined  I  had  seen  in  my 
dreams.  At  first  the  round,  staring  eyes  did  not  see  me ; 
then  they  met  mine.  No  sooner  had  that  happened  than 
the  loud  wild  laughter  that  had  so  alarmed  me  before  again 
broke  out.  But  there  was  no  terror  in  it  now ;  every- 
thing had  been  satisfactorily  explained  to  me. 
"  Ho  !  ho  !  ho  !  The  bird's  in  the  trap." 
It  was  the  voice  of  poor  Archie  Weston. 


CHAPTER  XX 

UNDER    A    FOOL'S   GUIDANCE 

THERE  was  a  touch  of  grotesque  humour  in  the  situa- 
tion which  might  have  appealed  to  me  under  different 
circumstances.  I  had  been  almost  frightened  out  of  my 
wits ;  I  had  racked  my  brains  to  think  of  a  possible  ex- 
planation of  the  sound  I  had  heard,  and  here  in  a  mo- 
ment I  found  that  I  had  been  driven  to  terror  by  the 
vacant  laugh  of  a  harmless  imbecile.  But  it  was  not  the 
incongruity  between  my  alarm  and  its  cause  that  appealed 
to  me  now.  I  was  filled  with  quite  a  different  feeling. 
The  walls  of  my  prison  were  so  thick,  the  window  and 
door  so  strong  and  securely  guarded,  that  escape  seemed 
hopeless,  but  here  was  at  last  perhaps  a  loophole  that 
offered  some  opportunity  for  hope.  My  enemies  had 
certainly  never  foreseen  or  imagined  this  visit.  Whither 
the  trap-door  led  I  did  not  know,  but  I  felt  that  it  prob- 
ably led  toward  freedom.  If  Sir  Archie  had  managed  to 
escape  observation  and  find  his  way  hither,  I  thought  it 
not  unlikely  that  I  might  be  able  to  make  my  exit  by  the 
same  means  and  equally  avoid  detection.  This  was  my 
first  thought,  and  it  was  with  this  rising  hope  that  I  rose 
from  my  seat  and  softly  called  out  his  name. 

He  lay  looking  at  me  with  an  expression  in  which 
cunning  and  triumph  were  blended,  but  at  first,  though 
I  spoke  to  him  several  times,  I  could  not  get  him  to  re- 
turn me  any  answer.  He  still  laughed  occasionally  ;  not, 

265 


266  HERONFORD 

however,  in  the  same  boisterous,  strident  tones,  but  almost 
under  his  breath,  and  raising  his  head  at  times  as  though 
he  were  afraid  of  being  detected.  I  was  anxious  not  to 
alarm  him,  and  I  did  all  that  I  was  able  to  show  him  by 
my  manner  that  he  had  no  reason  to  fear  me.  He  re- 
garded me  like  an  animal,  at  once  curious  and  alarmed, 
but  by  degrees  he  appeared  to  grow  more  confident,  and 
allowed  me  to  come  close  under  where  he  lay. 

"  We  are  old  friends,  Sir  Archie,"  I  said,  "  and  how  is 
the  jackdaw  ?  Will  you  bring  him  to  pay  me  a  visit  ? " 

"  It  is  too  dark  in  the  priest's  hole  for  Jeremy,  but  I 
want  to  see  the  little  grey  fellows  running  about  and 
frisking  their  long  tails.  Ho  !  ho !  I  often  come  here 
to  watch  them  but  they  never  think  I  can  see  them  in 
the  dark.  They  come  out  of  the  hole  under  the  window 
and  they  go  pop — pop — one  after  the  other." 

"  Will  you  come  down  and  see  them  ? "  I  said.  "  They 
are  quite  friendly  now  and  I  have  seen  them  all." 

He  drew  back  with  a  little  shudder. 

"  Archie's  legs  aren't  long  enough  and  he  doesn't  like 
the  dark.  And  it's  cold  there,  very  cold.  I  don't  like 
the  cold." 

"  Then  you  are  right  not  to  come  down  here." 

"  I  should  like  to  come  down,"  he  went  on,  nodding 
his  head  knowingly,  "  if  it  weren't  for  the  dark.  I  know 
there  are  spiders  down  there — great  fat  fellows  with  long 
legs — black-beetles,  and  little  things  I  can't  see  that  go 
tick-tick.  But  I  daren't — I  daren't.  It  is  the  place 
where  the  damned  are  locked  up." 

"  Then,"  I  said  softly,  "  you  must  help  me  to  get  out." 

"  No,  no,  I   know  all   about  you — you   must   never 


UNDER  A  FOOL'S  GUIDANCE         267 

come  up  again.  George  says  you  are  better  dead.  But 
Archie  is  sorry  for  you.  Is  your  head  better  ? " 

"  My  head  aches  as  badly  as  your  own  does  some- 
times, Archie.  I  am  sure  you  wouldn't  keep  me  here  if 
you  could  help  it." 

"  If  I  thought  you  wouldn't  hurt  Archie — but  I  can't, 
for  George  would  be  angry  and  I  won't  offend  George." 

"  But  he  need  never  know,"  I  urged  persuasively ; 
"  and  listen,  Archie,  I  have  been  here  ever  so  long,  and  I 
can  tell  you  all  about  those  little  grey  fellows  that  you  like 
to  watch.  There  is  one  that  must  be  at  least  a  hundred 
years  old  he  is  so  wise,  and  he  limps  a  little  as  if  he  used 
to  go  on  a  crutch  ;  and  there  is  another  —  Oh,  I  shall 
tell  you  all  about  them.  And  I  want  to  hear  more  about 
the  jackdaw  and  the  owls  and  the  fox  and  whether  he  is 
better." 

"  Simpson  is  dead,"  he  cried.  "  The  devil  killed  poor 
Simon." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that.  You  must  be  very  sorry  to 
lose  him." 

"  I  will  kill  this  devil,"  he  cried  passionately.  "  I 
hate  him  !  I  hate  him  !  Do  you  think  you  could  help 
me  to  kill  the  devil  ?  " 

"  Perhaps — I  do  not  know." 

"  I  am  waiting  till  I  get  a  chance,  but  he  is  strong 
and  cunning.  If  I  could  only  catch  him  when  he  is 
asleep !  If  you  saw  this  devil  you  could  tell  whether 
you  could  help  me  ?  " 

"  We  might  be  able  to  do  something  together.  But 
you  must  not  let  anyone  know." 

"  Archie  is  very  wise  sometimes,"  said  the  poor  crea- 


268  HERONFORD 

ture,  shaking  his  head,  "and  no  one  knows  that  he  had 
found  out  the  priest's  hole.  But  I  will  show  you  the 
devil,  and  then  you  will  be  able  to  say  whether  you  are 
strong  enough.  You  must  not  move  till  I  come  back." 

He  raised  himself  up  from  his  prostrate  position  and 
stole  away  so  softly  that  I  could  not  hear  the  sound  of  his 
footsteps.  I  had  no  idea  what  object  he  had  in  view  nor 
what  wild  scheme  was  working  in  his  confused  mind,  but 
I  knew  that  such  a  mind  as  his  often  shows  great  power 
of  secrecy  and  cunning,  and  I  hoped  there  might  be  some 
advantage  in  the  secret  he  seemed  anxious  to  share  with 
me.  I  remained  standing  where  I  was,  and  it  was  not 
more  than  two  or  three  minutes  till  he  returned  in  a  state 
of  great  excitement. 

"  Ho !  ho !  "  he  cried,  "  I  can  show  you  the  devil, 
but  you  must  come  up  softly  and  make  no  noise.  And 
you  must  only  come  up  for  a  minute  for  George  would 
be  angry,  and  you  know  I  wouldn't  vex  George." 

No  sooner  had  I  found  that  my  appearance  would  not 
alarm  him  and  that  he  would  offer  no  opposition  than  I 
began  to  arrange  the  means  of  ascending  through  the  trap. 
This  was  very  easily  done.  By  placing  half  a  dozen  of 
the  smaller  casks  on  end  I  formed  a  secure  and  stable 
structure  upon  which  I  hastily  clambered,  and  then  pull- 
ing myself  up  I  scrambled  on  to  the  floor  above.  On  my 
sudden  entrance  Sir  Archie  appeared  a  little  frightened 
and  seemed  inclined  to  fly,  but  I  speedily  reassured  him 
and  we  again  became  very  friendly.  The  apartment  in 
which  I  found  myself  was  quite  bare  and  ruinous  and 
seemed  to  have  been  formerly  used  as  a  little  chapel  or, 
indeed,  may  have  been  the  refectory  in  former  times.  The 


UNDER  A  FOOL'S  GUIDANCE         269 

roof  was  very  high  and  arched,  and  the  row  of  windows, 
which  were  now  unglazed,  were  of  what  I  suppose  is  the 
Gothic  shape  and  placed  high  up  in  the  wall,  and  certainly 
far  beyond  my  reach.  There  was  one  doorway  at  the 
further  end  with  a  great  deal  of  grotesque  carving  about 
it,  and  excepting  this  there  was  no  other  means  of  exit. 
These  general  features  I  observed  at  the  first  hurried 
glance,  but  I  was  now  more  anxious  to  retain  Sir  Archie's 
good-will  and  avoid  giving  him  any  cause  for  alarm. 

"  Now,"  said  I,  "  you  see  you  have  no  reason  to  be 
frightened  at  all,  and  I  am  going  to  help  you  if  I  can.  I 
will  follow  wherever  you  may  lead  me,  but  remember, 
you  must  take  great  care  that  no  one  may  see  us." 

He  regarded  me  with  a  very  knowing  look  and  laid 
his  finger  on  his  lip. 

"  Wait  till  you  see.  Ho  !  ho  !  no  one  would  think  of 
it,"  and  then  he  went  on  as  though  he  were  imparting  a 
secret  of  importance,  "  I  found  it  one  day  when  I  had 
lost  old  Jeremy,  and  the  sly  fellow  was  trying  to  get  back 
to  his  old  haunts.  But  I  kept  it  close  for  the  rogue's 
sake,  and  now  I  will  let  you  see  the  devil  through  it." 

Taking  me  by  the  arm  he  drew  me  to  the  door,  which 
I  found  led  upon  a  narrow  corridor  with  windows  like 
those  in  the  apartment  we  had  quitted  and  built  upon  the 
same  level.  At  the  end  of  this  passage  were  half  a  dozen 
steps,  and  after  we  had  ascended  them  I  found  myself  in 
a  little  gallery,  round  the  entire  circuit  of  which  there  ran 
a  stone  bench.  In  the  wall  opposite  where  we  had  come 
up  there  was  a  small  aperture  about  a  foot  in  diameter, 
but  very  skilfully  masked,  and  which  I  failed  to  see  until 
Archie  drew  my  attention  to  it.  It  had  formerly  been 


270 


HERONFORD 


covered  with  an  iron  grating  of  some  sort,  for  I  saw  the 
marks  in  the  stone  where  the  clamps  had  been  fixed,  but 
these  had  long  since  disappeared,  and  it  was  now  merely 
filled  with  rubbish.  By  standing  upon  the  stone  bench 
we  were  able  to  reach  it  very  easily,  and  Archie,  putting 
in  his  hand  with  great  circumspection,  cleared  away  the 
material  that  choked  the  aperture. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  look  down  and  see  the  devil  for 
yourself.  You  needn't  be  afraid,  for  I  have  watched  him 
a  hundred  times." 

I  do  not  know  with  what  object  this  post  of  observa- 
tion was  originally  planned,  but  certainly  nothing  could 
have  better  answered  its  purpose.  I  could  see  every  cor- 
ner of  the  room  into  which  I  looked,  and  I  could  equally 
hear  every  word  that  was  spoken.  But  certainly  since 
either  the  wakeful  abbot  had  spied  upon  the  erring  breth- 
ren, or  the  host  had  overlooked  his  suspected  guest,  none 
of  the  watchers  had  ever  been  filled  with  livelier  emotions 
than  I  experienced  at  that  moment. 

Mr.  George  Weston  stood  with  his  back  to  the  fire  of 
wood  that  burned  in  the  grate,  and  at  the  moment  when 
I  first  saw  him  was  speaking  his  mind  with  great  plain- 
ness and  emphasis.  Sprawling  over  the  table  near  him 
with  a  look  half  indifferent,  half  sulky,  and  perhaps  one 
part  drunk,  was  Mr.  William  Cassilis  himself.  Weston 
had  evidently  not  long  returned  from  his  morning  ride, 
for  his  boots  were  bespattered  with  mud  and  he  still 
carried  his  riding-whip,  while  I  thought  his  companion 
seemed  only  lately  risen  from  bed. 

"  Dam'me,  you  drunken  brute,"  Weston  was  saying, 
"  you  would  spoil  all  with  your  folly  ?  What  more  do 


UNDER  A  FOOL'S  GUIDANCE         271 

you  want  than  the  snug  quarters  you  have  here,  where  you 
can  drink  yourself  to  death  if  you  please,  and  my  com- 
pany when  you  are  sober  ?  I'm  d ,  but  I  wish  I  had 

never  had  anything  to  do  with  you,  for  I  feel  as  if  the 
noose  was  round  my  neck  already.  There's  a  hue  and 
cry  raised  over  the  country  already,  and  there's  one  per- 
son at  least  imagines  I  have  had  a  hand  in  it.  We  man- 
aged the  affair  cursedly  ill  between  us.  The  old  horse 
got  home  without  his  rider  in  the  morning,  and  they 
found  the  fool's  hat  and  whip  on  the  road.  What  was  it 
to  me  which  of  you  won  in  your  sparring  match  ?  What 
have  I  to  gain  whether  he  elbowed  you  out  of  Heronford 
or  no  ?  I  was  an  idiot  to  mix  myself  up  in  it,  and  if  I 
hadn't  hated  the  supercilious  cur  so  much  I  would  have 
seen  you  both  to  perdition  before  I  moved  an  inch.  But 
I  am  in  it  now,  and  if  you  think  I  am  going  to  let  you 
hang  me  with  any  of  your  foolish  tricks  you  don't  know 
George  Weston." 

"  That's  all  very  well  and  I  don't  want  to  quarrel,  but 
how  long  do  you  mean  to  keep  me  mewed  up  here  in 
this  cursed  old  ruin  ?  I  must  get  out  I  tell  you,  or  I  will 
go  mad.  What  with  the  blue  devils  and  the  drink  and 
that  jibbering  idiot " 

"You  had  better  leave  my  brother  out  of  the  question," 
cried  Weston  angrily,  "  and  remember,  at  least,  that  he  is 
my  brother,  whom  I  won't  have  ill-treated.  But  you  will 
stay  here  till  you  have  served  my  purpose,  and  till  I  can 
see  my  way  to  let  you  go  with  safety  to  myself.  We  are 
both  in  the  same  boat,  but  don't  forget  that  I  could  hang 
you  with  a  word.  Robbery,  Mr.  Cassilis ;  burglary,  Mr. 
Cassilis ;  attempted  murder,  and  if  you  had  struck  a  little 


272  HERONFORD 

harder  —  Oh,  no  !  I  can't  afford  to  let  you  swagger 
to  Heronford  yet.  Your  business  is  not  finished  and 
neither  is  mine." 

"  It  is  all  your  own  business,"  cried  William  Cassilis, 
"  and  I  know  very  well  why  you  want  me  shut  up  here. 
I  have  got  all  that  I  wanted." 

"  But  I  have  not,  and  that  is  the  more  important  matter 
of  the  two.  My  dear  Will,  you  must  try  and  be  reason- 
able." 

"  Reasonable  !  I  have  done  all  that  you  wanted  me, 
and  upon  my  soul  you  forget,  Weston." 

"  What  do  I  forget  ? " 

"  That  when  Heronford  dies,  and  he  can't  live  long  now, 
I'll  be  the  biggest  man  in  the  county.  I  will,  by " 

Weston  laughed. 

"  You  can't  get  that  out  of  your  head  for  a  minute. 
And  who  has  made  you  ?  Who  put  you  in  the  way,  and 
put  the  cards  in  your  hand  that  won  the  game  ?  But  don't 
be  too  sure,  Will ;  don't  crow  till  we  have  finished." 

"  What  more  have  we  got  to  do  ?  I  have  the  pa- 
pers   " 

41  You  forget  that  we  haven't  yet  got  the  person  most 
interested  in  them  out  of  the  way.  I  have  no  liking  for 
murder,  though  I  think  there  is  a  friend  of  mine  who 
would  hardly  have  hesitated  even  at  that.  It's  an  in- 
fernally ugly  word,  and  perhaps  I  don't  hate  your  nephew 
enough  to  give  my  friend  a  free  hand.  No,  no,  I  don't 
say  that  you  meant  anything  by  that  blow  on  the  head — 
but  we  must  arrange  things  differently." 

"  Arrange  things  as  you  please,  only  see  that  he  doesn't 
come  back  to  give  me  trouble." 


UNDER  A  FOOL'S  GUIDANCE         273 

"  I  don't  think,"  said  Weston,  "  that  he  will  give  you 
much  trouble  when  we  have  finished  with  him.  I  have 
told  them  to  take  good  care  of  him,  but  I  have  been 
considering  matters,  and  I  think  a  sea  voyage  would  be 
good  for  his  health." 

"  The  longer  the  better,  and  if  the  vessel  founders " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  couldn't  afford  that  even  for  your  sake, 
my  dear  Will,  but  I'll  wager  that  I  manage  without  going 
so  far  as  that.  The  heir  would  hardly  be  pleased  if  he 
knew  how  I  had  arranged  for  his  comfort." 

"  You'll  arrange  both  of  us  beautifully  before  you  have 
done,"  cries  Will  with  an  oath. 

" 1  am  more  concerned  for  myself  than  for  you  at  any 
rate,  and  I  propose  for  my  own  good  to  ship  your  rela- 
tive to  the  West  Indies.  There  are  some  sugar  planta- 
tions there  that  I  think  would  suit  him,  and  some  friends 
of  mine  who  could  show  him  how  to  work.  One  thing 
is  certain,  the  sooner  we  wash  our  hands  of  him  and  his 
affairs  the  safer  I  shall  feel." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  the  nigger  among  the  canes  with 
all  my  heart,"  said  Will  heartily,  "  but  can  you  manage 
that  ?  " 

"There's  nothing  easier.  The  Swallow  will  be  off 
Langston  to-morrow  night  if  the  weather  holds,  and 
Claude  Slingsby  will  carry  him  safe  to  Havre.  If  he 
escapes  the  cruisers  he  will  reach  port  safe,  and  if  he 
doesn't  escape  the  cruisers " 

"  Ay,  if  he  doesn't " 

"  Then  your  Christian  prayer  will  be  answered  and  he 
will  go  to  the  bottom,  for  Claude  is  not  the  man  to  give 
up  his  ship  while  two  planks  hold  together.  Once  in 


274  HERONFORD 

Havre  there  will  be  no  difficulty,  and  then  Mr.  Cassilis 
will  have  some  chance  of  becoming — the  greatest  man  in 
the  county.  But  look  you,  Will,  until  I  give  you  leave  I 
won't  have  you  trapesing  over  the  country  like  a  resur- 
rected ghost,  and  while  you  are  here  I  will  have  you 
keep  your  drunken  hands  off  Archie  and  his  playthings. 
You  may  treat  your  brother  as  you  please,  but,  dam' me, 
for  my  part  I  was  born  with  some  natural  affection,  and 
I  won't  have  it." 

"  You  think  you  have  me  under  your  thumb,"  cried 
Will,  "  but  I  will  have  you  know " 

"  I  have  your  worthless  life  in  my  pocket,  and  if  it 
weren't  for  one  thing  I  would  have  your  relative  out  of 
the  magazine  and  send  him  riding  back  to  Heronford  to 
his  books  and  his  meagrims,  but  we  can't  afford  to  go 
back.  But  look  here,  sir,  never  forget  this  for  a  mo- 
ment," and  Mr.  Weston  advancing  to  the  table  struck  it 
heavily  with  his  riding-whip ;  "  I  am  the  master  here ; 
you  are  mine,  soul  and  body,  my  property,  my  goods  and 
chattels ;  and  if  you  venture  to  raise  a  finger  in  opposi- 
tion to  my  wishes  I  will  teach  you  a  lesson  you  won't 
forget.  Oh,  no  !  I  don't  want  to  quarrel  with  you — you 
are  not  worth  quarreling  with — but  you  had  better  re- 
member my  words  for  the  future." 

"You  are  always  riding  me  too  hard,  George,  and 
you  know  very  well  that  this  was  your  scheme,  and  you 
wanted  the  young  fellow  out  of  the  way  as  well  as  I 
did.  Maybe  you  haven't  your  own  ends  to  serve — 
maybe " 

"  Maybe  you  would  like  to  see  us  both  go  to  pieces  and 
this  precious  coxcomb  come  sailing  in  before  us  after  all  ? 


UNDER  A  FOOL'S  GUIDANCE         275 

I  was  a  fool  to  bring  him  here — as  great  a  fool  as  yourself 
— and  I  won't  be  easy  till  I  see  him  out  of  this  house. 
That  damned  fellow  Stone,  of  Fareham,  has  been  making 
enquiries,  and  I  think  somehow  he  has  got  upon  the  right 
track,  but  who  put  him  on  the  track  I  can't  imagine. 
Now  you  know  the  truth,  and  you  can  say  whether  I 
have  any  reason  for  my  temper." 

"  Stone  would  do  me  an  ill-turn  if  he  could." 

"  Then  don't  give  Stone  an  opportunity  of  falling  across 
you.  The  first  time  you  move  out  of  this  house  you  will 
find  him  at  your  elbow  and  then  farewell  to  Heronford, 
and  look  out  for  another  chapter  in  the  Newgate  calendar 
and  a  bran  new  ballad  all  to  yourself." 

With  these  words  Mr.  Weston  flung  out  of  the  room 
and  left  his  associate  to  meditate  upon  the  unpleasant 
truths  to  which  he  had  just  given  utterance. 

During  all  this  time  I  had  overheard  the  conversation 
with  difficulty  for  Archie  had  manifested  a  great  deal  of 
impatience,  and  had  continually  interrupted  me  by  his  in- 
terjections. His  hatred  of  William  Cassilis  was  so  great 
that  it  seemed  to  have  overmastered  his  dread,  and  I  was 
afraid  lest  he  might  give  way  to  an  outburst,  which  would 
have  the  effect  of  leading  to  our  detection.  I  found  it 
necessary  to  endeavour  to  quiet  him  from  time  to  time, 
but  it  was  impossible  to  turn  him  from  the  one  thought 
that  had  seized  hold  upon  his  mind.  I  had  promised  to 
help  him  to  remove  the  devil,  and  between  us  we  must 
devise  some  means  for  that  object. 

When  George  Weston  had  left  the  room  I  leaped  down 
from  the  stone  bench  on  which  I  had  been  standing,  and 
Archie  caught  hold  of  my  arm. 


276  HERONFORD 

"  You  saw  him — the  black  devil  ?  You  are  not  afraid 
of  him  ? " 

"  No,  Archie,  I  am  not  afraid  of  him,  nor  need  you 
be.  I  don't  think  he  will  do  you  any  harm." 

"  You  don't  know  him,  but  I  do.  The  devil  always 
leaves  a  black  mark  wherever  he  touches  you,  and  look 
here.  What  is  that  ?  " 

He  pulled  up  his  sleeve  and  showed  me  his  arm  where 
the  skin  was  discoloured  about  a  crown-piece  in  extent, 
or  perhaps  a  little  more. 

"  What  is  that  ?  He  caught  hold  of  me,  and  his  fingers 
burnt  me  then.  Oh !  I  could  feel  them  burning  me. 
Which  do  you  think  is  the  best  way  to  kill  the  devil  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  we  must  think  of  a  plan.  But 
before  I  can  do  anything  you  must  show  me  how  you 
came  in  here.  When  we  are  once  outside " 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  leer  of  great  cunning. 

"  When  the  bird  gets  out  of  the  window  he  flies  away 
home  to  his  nest.  No,  no,  you  must  stay  with  Archie 
now,  and  perhaps  some  day  he  will  show  you  when  the 
wicked  old  devil  is  dead.  And  the  devil's  secret  too ; 
he  knows  his  secret." 

"  You  must  show  me  now  or  I  shall  not  be  able  to  help 
you.  I  think  I  can  promise  you,  Archie,  when  I  get 
out  that  he  will  not  trouble  you  much  longer.  I  can 
find  a  way  to  drive  him  out  of  Langston  Priory." 

"  You  are  sure  of  that  ?    If  I  thought  you  could " 

"  Trust  me,  and  remember  I  am  always  your  friend." 
He  hung  for  a  moment  doubtfully,  but  at  last,  with  one 
furtive  glance  at  my  face,  he  seemed  to  have  made  up  his 
mind  and  turned  back  into  the  passage  through  which 


UNDER  A  FOOL'S  GUIDANCE         277 

we  had  come.  When  we  reached  the  chamber  into  which 
I  had  first  ascended  I  thought  that  he  was  playing  some 
elfish  trick  on  me  for  he  stopped  short  and  burst  into 
a  fit  of  vacant  laughter.  So  far  as  I  could  see  the  only 
means  of  exit  were  the  trap-door  and  the  door  through 
which  we  had  just  come. 

"  They  say  Archie  is  a  fool,  but  all  your  wise  men 
couldn't  get  out  of  this  but  myself.  Let  me  see  if  you 
can  find  the  way." 

"  It  won't  do  for  us  to  lose  any  time  now,  Archie. 
We  must  make  haste  if  you  want  me  to  help  you." 

"  Ah  !  I  knew  you  couldn't.  Your  wits  must  be  a 
thousand  years  old  before  they  could  find  it.  Now  see 
how  easily  I  can  do  it." 

At  the  further  end  of  the  apartment  the  wall  was  cov- 
ered by  a  thick  curtain  of  ivy,  which  had  originally 
grown  from  the  outside  through  the  window  but  had  now 
struck  its  roots  into  the  wall  within  and  entirely  hid  it. 
Archie  walked  straight  across  the  room  and  surveyed  the 
dense  screen  for  a  moment  without  speaking ;  then  with 
an  agility  which  I  could  not  have  expected  he  seized 
hold  of  the  thick  tendrils  and  swung  himself  into  the 
foliage.  When  he  had  clambered  about  ten  feet  from 
the  ground  he  suddenly  stopped  and,  dividing  the  branches 
with  his  hand,  disclosed  an  opening  quite  large  enough  to 
admit  a  grown  man  with  ease.  He  appeared  greatly  de- 
lighted with  his  performance,  and  manifested  his  pleasure 
in  his  own  peculiar  way.  I  was  about  to  follow  him 
when  his  discordant  laugh  suddenly  ceased.  He  gave  a 
little  cry  and  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  something  behind 
and  beyond  me,  apparently  at  once  deprived  of  all  power 


278  HERONFORD 

of  motion.  I  turned  swiftly  round  and  knew  in  a  mo- 
ment that  my  hope  of  escape  was  dashed  to  the  ground. 
Just  as  I  was  about  to  raise  myself  from  the  ground  I 
saw  a  rough  head  appearing  above  the  trap,  and  in  an- 
other moment  my  gaoler  had  leaped  upright  upon  his  feet 
and  was  hurrying  toward  me.  He  had  drawn  a  pistol 
from  his  breast,  and  as  he  came  up  presented  it  at  my 
head. 

"  I  don't  want  to  shoot  you  if  I  can  help  it,  but  if  you 
stir  hand  or  foot  I'll  do  it.  Stand  back,  sir,  I  tell  you. 
I  have  only  to  whistle  to  bring  up  half  a  dozen  more, 
and  you'll  find  them  rougher  than  I  am." 

My  first  impulse  was  to  make  a  struggle  for  the  lib- 
erty I  had  so  nearly  gained,  but  I  saw  that  he  would  keep 
his  word  if  I  moved,  and  there  was  no  means  of  defence 
within  my  reach.  There  was  no  help  for  it;  I  was 
powerless  to  resist,  and  I  yielded  with  the  best  grace  I 
could  assume. 

"  If  you  had  given  me  ten  minutes  more,"  I  said,  "  I 
should  have  been  on  easier  terms  with  you,  and  if  you 
will  now  lay  down  your  weapon " 

"  My  business  is  to  keep  you  safe,  and  I  think  you 
have  given  me  a  poor  return  for  my  kindness.  I'll  keep 
a  sharper  eye  on  you  for  the  future,  and  for  you,  Mr. 
Archie,  I'm  of  opinion  the  master  wouldn't  be  very 
thankful  to  you  if  he  knew  what  you  were  trying  to  do 
for  him.  Now,  sir,  we'll  march,  if  you  please." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A    BITTER    HOUR 

MY  hope  of  escape  cannot  have  been  excessive,  for 
though  I  felt  my  disappointment,  yet  it  was  not  to  such 
a  degree  that  I  was  greatly  affected  by  it.  It  is  true  that 
I  was  disappointed,  but  all  through  I  had  felt  in  some 
way  that  my  luck  would  be  too  great  to  escape  so  easily ; 
and,  besides,  it  might  be  some  comfort  to  know  the  worst 
that  could  befall  me.  I  had  at  least  been  freed  from  the 
torture  of  anticipation  and  suspense.  But  comfort !  To 
drag  out  my  years  in  a  gang  of  slaves  chained  to  a  life  of 
drudgery  and  wretchedness ;  to  pass  without  a  word  out 
of  the  life  and  knowledge  of  those  who  knew  me  and  the 
few  who  loved  me ;  to  go  on  living  and  yet  to  die  more 
certainly  than  if  the  grave  had  closed  over  me — this  was 
the  fate  for  which  I  had  to  prepare  myself,  and  the  lot  to 
which  I  had  to  steel  my  heart.  I  could  expect  no  mercy ; 
I  could  hope  for  no  reprieve.  My  enemies  had  gone  too 
far  to  turn  back  now  without  destruction  to  themselves, 
and  to  keep  themselves  safe  it  was  necessary  that  my  sac- 
rifice should  be  completed.  Yet  the  mind  is  so  curiously 
constituted  that  I  had  some  little  sense  of  satisfaction  in 
knowing  their  intentions  and  reading  the  hidden  working 
of  their  hearts.  I  had  indeed  paid  a  terrible  price,  but  I 
had  learned  everything,  and  now  knew  with  certainty  all 
that  I  had  hitherto  desired  to  know. 

But  there  was  one  matter  from  which  I  was  able  to 
279 


28o  HERONFORD 

derive  some  hope,  however  faint.  My  friends  had  already 
discovered  that  I  was  missing,  and  had  begun  an  active 
search  on  my  behalf.  I  could  see  that  Weston  was  in  a 
condition  of  great  disquiet  regarding  their  enquiries,  and 
I  was  certain  he  must  have  had  some  further  reason  for  his 
uneasiness  than  he  had  stated  to  his  friend.  I  knew  that 
Stone  was  keen,  energetic,  and  loyal,  but  without  some  clue 
to  guide  him  it  was  more  than  probable  his  labour  would 
be  only  thrown  away.  Without  the  knowledge  which  only 
Victory  or  myself  could  impart  he  could  never  guess  or 
imagine  my  fate,  or  the  person  into  whose  hands  I  had 
fallen. 

But  Victory — upon  her  and  her  alone  could  I  rely  if  I 
was  to  be  saved  from  this  future  worse  than  death,  and  I 
felt  the  most  implicit  confidence  in  her  clear  intelligence 
and  unfailing  instinct.  She  had  warned  me  of  the  peril 
that  I  had  treated  with  contempt ;  she  had  seen  the  dan- 
ger with  which  I  was  menaced  and  to  which  I  had  been 
blind ;  and  now  I  felt  assured  when  the  moment  of  trial 
came  she  would  act  with  promptitude  and  wisdom.  She 
knew  my  faith  in  Stone ;  she  knew  that  I  had  intended 
to  ask  his  advice,  and  I  felt  almost  certain  when  the  news 
of  my  disappearance  first  reached  her  she  would  at  once 
find  the  means  of  communicating  with  him.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  he  was  already  so  warm  upon  my  track  that 
Weston  was  frightened  and  anxious  to  have  me  disposed 
of  elsewhere,  and  there  was  still  a  chance,  however  slight, 
that  my  friends  might  reach  me  before  I  was  carried  on 
shipboard,  whither  it  would  be  impossible  to  follow  me. 

Morgan,  my  gaoler,  was  determined  that  I  should  not 
make  an  attempt  to  escape  a  second  time,  or  if  I  did  make 


A  BITTER  HOUR  281 

the  attempt  he  would  be  present  to  witness  it.  However 
much  he  disliked  the  task  he  made  up  his  mind  to  stay 
with  me  during  the  day,  and  although  he  was  not  quite  so 
friendly  as  he  had  previously  been,  I  still  found  com- 
panionship in  his  presence,  and  he  helped  to  relieve  my 
loneliness.  At  bottom  I  am  certain  he  was  a  kindly, 
honest  fellow,  but  his  devotion  to  his  master,  which  was 
not  unmingled  with  fear,  seemed  to  possess  him  entirely, 
and  prevented  his  natural  instincts  from  finding  any  out- 
let. He  seemed  to  think  that  I  had  shown  myself  un- 
grateful for  his  former  kindness,  and  that  my  abortive 
tempt  to  escape  had  been  an  injury  especially  directed 
toward  himself,  who  would  have  suffered  most  had  that 
attempt  proved  successful.  This  was  the  entire  burden 
of  his  complaint  against  me,  and  this  complaint  he  reit- 
erated again  and  again. 

"  I  did  all  I  could  for  you,"  he  said  more  than  once ; 
u  I  made  you  comfortable  with  good  victuals  and  a  bed 
that  might  do  a  prince,  and  I  treated  you  like  an  honest 
shipmate  who  wouldn't  get  a  poor  fellow  into  trouble. 
And  that's  your  way  !  that's  my  thanks  !  when  you  get  my 
back  turned  to  slip  your  cable,  and  leave  me  here  to  tell 
the  master  that  you  had  fooled  me  with  your  tricks.  Did 
you  think,  mister,  what  would  have  happened  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid,"  I  answered,  "  I  never  thought  about 
you  at  all.  You  are  a  good  fellow,  Morgan ;  I  am  sure 
they  have  kept  you  in  the  dark.  This  is  a  matter  of  life 
and  death  to  me.  I  think  you  know  who  I  am.  Do  you 
know  why  I  am  here  ?  Do  you  know  what  your  master 
intends  to  do  with  me  ?  " 

"  Some  tomfoolery  about  a  woman,  I  suppose  ?     The 


282  HERONFORD 

wenches  have  a  deal  to  answer  for  in  this  world  and  the 
next,  and  the  master  would  give  his  soul  for  the  blink  of 
a  blue  eye — God  bless  them  !  But  I  heern  them  say  you 
are  going  to  make  a  trip  with  the  little  spitfire,  and  Cap- 
tain Claude — I  wish  ye  luck  with  him.  Thunder  !  he's 
a  daisy." 

"  I  was  certain  you  did  not  know  everything.  What 
would  you  say  to  the  West  Indies,  Morgan  ?  Would 
you  rather  die  at  once  here  than  be  tortured  to  death 
there  ?  " 

He  whistled  and  looked  at  me  curiously. 

"  The  West  Indies  !  I  thought  Captain  Claude  was 
the  worst  of  it,  and  to  my  mind  that  was  bad  enough, 
for  I  made  a  voyage  with  him  once  myself.  But  the 
West  Indies !  What  have  the  master  and  you  been  up 
to  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Morgan,"  I  cried  eagerly,  seeing  at  last 
a  distant  hope  of  winning  his  sympathy.  "  I'll  tell  you, 
and  when  you  have  heard " 

"By you'll  tell  me  nothing.  I  won't  listen  to 

you.  My  business  is  to  keep  you  here  and  not  hearken 
to  stories,  but,  mate,  I'm  sorry  for  you,  and  that's  the 
truth  on  it.  The  West  Indies  !  Phew !  I  don't  wonder 
you  were  so  eager  to  levant  with  Sir  Archie.  I  declare 
to  God  I  forgive  you,  but  I'll  see  that  you  don't  do  it 
again." 

"  But,  Morgan,"  I  went  on,  "  that  is  not  even  the 
worst  of  it." 

But  he  interrupted  me  again. 

"  Best  or  worst,  I  can't  help  you.  If  you  were  bound 
for  a  hotter  port  still  I'd  do  the  same,  little  as  I  liked  it. 


A  BITTER  HOUR  283 

I  can  only  wish  you  a  good  voyage,  and  hope  that  it  may 
turn  out  better  than  you  think  for.  I  wish  you  hadn't 
told  me  for  I  don't  like  the  thought  of  it,  and  I've  taken 
a  fancy  to  you  though  you  did  try  to  get  me  into  trouble." 

I  suggested  that  at  least  after  I  had  been  removed  he 
might  carry  a  letter  for  me,  but  he  demurred  at  once. 

"  No,  no ;  I  thank  God  I  can  neither  read  nor  write, 
and  I  don't  know  what  you  might  put  upon  the  paper. 
I'll  make  you  comfortable  as  far  as  I  can,  but  more  you 
mustn't  expect,  and  now,  if  you  please,  we'll  try  the  other 
tact  in  our  talk,  for  we  have  sailed  this  one  as  long  as  I 
have  a  mind  for." 

I  felt  that  if  Weston  was  as  well  served  by  all  his 
servants  as  by  this  one  my  chances  of  escape  were  not 
great,  and  during  the  two  days  that  Morgan  spent  almost 
entirely  in  my  company  he  never  altered  in  the  attitude 
of  stubborn  fidelity  he  had  assumed,  and  the  blunt  yet 
not  unsympathetic  denial  he  gave  to  all  my  attempts  to 
secure  his  friendship.  He  certainly  did  not  like  his  task, 
nor  during  the  whole  time  was  he  quite  free  from  a 
certain  superstitious  expectation  regarding  the  vault  in 
which  I  was  confined.  It  had  formed  part  of  the  Old 
Priory,  and  it  appeared  there  was  a  current  tradition,  which 
may  have  been  well  or  ill-founded,  that  it  had  formerly 
been  used  as  a  burial-place  for  the  more  exalted  brethren. 
I  found  that  Morgan's  first  affected  indifference  toward 
the  supernatural  was  not  long  maintained,  and  in  a  short 
time  he  was  regaling  me  with  tales  so  weird  and  ghastly 
that  my  gloomy  prison  seemed  to  myself  still  more 
hideous  and  uncanny.  He  evidently  believed  every 
word  he  spoke,  and  at  times  I  almost  fancied  he  was 


284  HERONFORD 

listening  for  the  dead  abbot's  footsteps  on  the  stairs  or 
watching  for  the  hooded  procession  of  cowled  figures 
moving  to  the  strains  of  a  ghostly  Kyrie  Eleison. 

I  could  not  help  listening  to  his  stories,  sometimes  I 
listened  in  spite  of  myself,  but  for  the  most  part  my  mind 
was  in  a  state  too  troubled  and  agitated  to  lend  him  a 
serious  attention.  The  minutes  seemed  interminable ;  I 
counted  the  crawling  hours ;  and  as  the  second  day  wore 
on  I  resigned  myself  altogether  to  despair,  and  for  the  first 
time  felt  myself  completely  broken  and  unmanned.  I  do 
not  know  that  I  had  found  any  definite  hope.  I  do  not 
know  exactly  in  what  manner  I  had  expected  Providence 
would  interfere  on  my  behalf,  but  I  was  unable  to  realise 
that  at  the  last  moment  I  should  not  in  some  way  be 
snatched  from  the  horrible  fate  that  was  impending  over 
me.  Now,  however,  as  the  daylight  passed  and  the  even- 
ing shadows  closed  round  me,  a  dull,  blind,  hopeless 
feeling,  that  was  not  resignation,  took  possession  of  me. 
My  hope  was  dead ;  I  was  beyond  the  reach  of  help ;  I 
could  only  bow  down  my  head  and  let  the  storm  pass 
over  me.  The  cup  of  life,  with  its  almost  untasted 
sweetness,  was  lying  broken  at  my  feet. 

There  may  have  been  some  who  would  have  faced  the 
situation  with  more  courage  and  constancy — perhaps  there 
were,  but  I  think  my  feelings  were  natural  and  not  alto- 
gether ignoble.  I  was  still  suffering  from  the  effect  of 
the  injury  I  had  sustained ;  I  could  do  nothing  to  help 
myself,  and  there  was  now  no  hope  that  any  help  or 
assistance  could  reach  me.  I  had  imagined  that  in  the 
rough  justice  of  the  world  wrong  might  sometimes  tri- 
umph, but  never  wholly  nor  for  long ;  now,  however,  this 


A  BITTER  HOUR  285 

comfortable  doctrine  failed  to  afford  me  consolation,  for 
I  saw  the  unrighteous  triumph  and  the  innocent  trodden 
under  foot,  and  I  lost  sight  of  the  landmarks  of  my  faith 
in  a  sense  of  crushing  defeat  and  overwhelming  de- 
spair. 

It  was  the  night  of  Friday,  and  must  have  been  between 
nine  and  ten  o'clock,  or  perhaps  a  little  later.  I  was  be- 
ginning to  think  that  the  summons  I  had  been  expecting 
would  be  deferred  for  another  day,  and  Morgan  was 
making  his  preparations  to  spend  another  fearful  and  un- 
comfortable night  in  my  company.  He  had  trimmed  the 
lantern  afresh,  which  he  had  set  on  a  cask  near  him,  and 
was  making  a  frugal  supper  of  coarse  bread  and  cheese 
when  there  came  an  imperative  summons  upon  the  iron 
door,  so  sudden  and  loud  as  to  cause  us  both  to  start 
where  we  sat. 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  Morgan  cried.  "  What  is  that  ?  " 
But  he  did  not  venture  to  move. 

A  moment  later  the  knocking  was  repeated  and  I  heard 
an  angry  voice  demand  admittance.  In  an  instant  Morgan 
leaped  to  his  feet,  ran  up  the  stone  steps,  and  unlocked  the 
door  which  swung  inward.  I  had  risen  from  the  box  on 
which  I  had  been  sitting,  knowing  that  the  fateful  moment 
had  at  length  arrived,  and  I  endeavoured  to  repress  the 
throbbing  of  my  heart  that  laboured  loudly  in  my  bosom. 
For  a  moment  a  grey  mist  swam  before  my  eyes,  but 
presently  that  cleared  away,  and  I  was  able  to  see  a 
cloaked  figure  coming  down  the  steps  and  a  bright  light 
behind  the  open  door.  I  waited  without  moving  where 
I  had  risen,  and  when  Mr.  Weston,  for  it  was  he,  came 
close  to  where  I  stood  he  raised  his  hat  and  bowed  to  me 


286  HERONFORD 

with  a  cruel  mocking  laugh  in  his  eyes  that  I  have  never 
forgotten. 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  he  said ;  "  I  hope  hon- 
est Morgan  has  made  you  comfortable  ?  " 

I  remained  silent. 

"  You  do  not  appear  to  have  cared  for  your  quarters — 
perhaps  you  are  right.  They  are  damp  certainly,  and 
dark,  and  the  view  is  not  extensive,  but  they  are  roomy 
and  commodious.  But  we  can't  get  all  we  desire  in  this 
world,  and  it  wasn't  quite  convenient  to  lodge  you  better." 

"  You  are  in  a  position  now  to  say  what  you  please, 
sir." 

"  Ay ;  I  am  glad  you  have  come  to  that  comfortable 
frame  of  mind.  If  you  had  always  been  of  that  way  of 
thinking  it  wouldn't  have  been  necessary  for  me  to  take 
so  much  trouble  to  show  you  that  I  like  my  own  way.  I 
am  going  to  change  your  lodging,  Mr.  Cassilis." 

"  I  am  quite  aware  of  your  intention,"  I  answered  ; 
"  I  need  not  ask  you  to  show  me  any  mercy,  but  I  would 
remind  you  that  though  it  seems  to  be  your  turn  now, 
mine  may  come  some  day." 

"  Oh !  I'll  take  the  present  and  let  you  make  what 
you  can  of  the  future.  I'm  a  dangerous  person  to  offend 
I  think  you  will  admit  now,  especially  as  you  seem  to 
know  my  intentions." 

"  It  is  a  long  way  to  the  West  Indies,  Mr.  Weston, 
but  men  have  been  known  to  find  their  way  back." 

He  looked  at  me  in  astonishment. 

"  By "  he  cried.  "  Morgan,  you  have  been  blab- 
bing. I'll " 

"  Morgan  has  told  me  nothing,"  I  interposed,  "  and  I 


A  BITTER  HOUR  287 

do  not  think  it  necessary  that  you  should  know  how  I 
have  learned.  But  I  warn  you  that  so  surely  as  you  live, 
William  Cassilis  and  yourself  will  yet  have  to  reckon 
with  me  for  what  you  have  done." 

"  Threatened  men  live  long,"  he  laughed.  "  By  the 
time  that  you  come  back  you  will  find  some  changes,  Mr. 
Cassilis  ;  and  then,  you  know,  you  may  never  come  back 
at  all.  I  think  that  is  much  more  likely  myself.  You 
were  once  good  enough  to  knock  me  down  and  I  sup- 
posed you  wondered  why  I  did  not  shoot  you.  You 
know  now,  and  every  day  you  live  you  will  know  better. 
It  did  not  suit  me  to  give  you  the  satisfaction  of  a  gen- 
tleman, but  I  have  squared  our  account  in  such  a  way 
that  I  don't  think  the  balance  is  on  your  side  now." 

"  Yes,  you  have  proved  yourself  a  generous  enemy." 

"  Have  I  not  ?  "  he  cried  with  a  sneer.  "  I  have  given 
you  good  measure,  pressed  down  and  running  over. 
Will  you  dance  at  the  wedding,  Mr.  Cassilis  ?  " 

I  suppose  I  should  not  have  spoken  the  words  but  I 
could  not  help  it ;  they  were  forced  from  me. 

"  I  may  yet  live  to  see  you  hanged,  Mr.  Weston." 

"  Who  knows  ?  "  he  answered  with  a  shrug  of  indif- 
ference; "though  if  that  happened  I  shall  be  the  first 
gentleman  of  my  family  who  has  met  his  deserts.  By 
the  way,  there  are  some  fine  secrets  in  the  Heron  ford 
family.  Had  I  known  them  sooner  I  might  have  dealt 
with  you  differently." 

"  I  am  satisfied  that  you  have  dealt  with  me  after  your 
nature.  Even  in  seeking  this  interview,  Mr.  Weston, 
you  have  tried  to  show  me  that  you  could  not  help  your- 
self. Is  it  necessary  that  you  should  prolong  it  ?  You 


288  HERONFORD 

have  now  done  your  worst;  you  have  enjoyed  your 
triumph,  and  I  am  ready  to  show  you  that  I  can  bear 
even  more  than  this  with  the  courage  of  a  gentleman." 

"  By ,  Will  would  like  to  hear  you  crow  like  that ; 

but  you  were  always  good  at  crowing,  even  when  we 
thought  you  only  my  lord's  bastard.  I  wonder  will  you 
crow  as  loudly  six  months  hence.  By  that  time  the  merry 
wedding  bells  will  scarce  have  finished  chiming.  I  see 
that  touches  you,"  he  went  on,  stepping  back ;  "  you  have 
not  yet  gained  sufficient  command  over  your  temper,  and 
there  must  be  no  further  breach  of  the  peace — oh,  no,  we 
cannot  afford  that.  Morgan,  see  if  the  cart  is  ready." 

"  Ay,  ay,  your  Honour,"  said  the  willing  and  obse- 
quious servant,  who  immediately  ascended  the  steps  and 
left  Weston  and  myself  standing  facing  one  another  alone 
in  the  cellar. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  Weston  said,  seating  himself 
coolly  beside  me, "  you  see,  however  much  I  hate  you,  I  am 
not  in  the  slightest  degree  afraid  of  your  violence,  though 
you  cried  me  for  a  coward  through  the  country.  You 
believe  I  am  a  coward  ?  Very  well.  You  think  I'm  a 
fool  ?  Very  well.  You  have  had  the  satisfaction  of  calling 
me  both.  And  now  let  us  see  what  is  the  price  you  have 
paid  for  that  indiscreet  indulgence  of  your  passion  and 
vanity.  First,  I  have  assisted  that  very  unworthy  gentle- 
man William  Cassilis  to  make  sure  of  your  inheritance — 
you  are  filius  nullius,  Mr.  Cassilis.  Second,  I  am  going 
to  marry  the  young  lady  with  whom  you  are  in  love — you 
had  an  excellent  taste,  Mr.  Cassilis  ;  she  has  the  sweetest 
figure  and  loveliest  face  in  England.  Third,  I  intend  to 
send  out  a  tombstone  to  the  Bahamas — is  it  the  Bahamas  ? 


A  BITTER  HOUR  289 

— to  record  your  virtues.  Fourth — there  is  a  fourth, 
fifth  and  sixth,  if  I  haven't  forgotten  them.  You  re- 
member Humpty  Dumpty — a  case  very  much  to  the 
point  ? 

"'All  the  king's  horses  and  all  the  king's  men 
Couldn't  put  Humpty  Dumpty  together  again.' 

Perhaps  you  never  understood  the  meaning  of  the  lines 
before  ? " 

He  had  advanced  his  face  quite  close  to  me,  a  lurking 
light  of  triumph  in  his  eyes  and  a  cruel  smile  upon 
his  lips.  At  that  moment  I  thought  of  the  tortures 
which  the  Indian  warrior  inflicts  upon  his  captive — the 
taunts,  the  insults,  the  vindictive  mockery  which  precedes 
the  torture  of  the  stake,  and  I  knew  that  the  same  savage 
instinct  now  filled  his  bosom  and  had  inspired  his  speech. 
I  could  hardly  understand  such  malignant  hatred ;  it 
seemed  to  me  almost  to  approach  to  the  verge  of  mad- 
ness. I  had  imagined  before  that  he  was  merely  a  bully 
and  a  coward,  but  though  we  were  now  alone  he  sat  quite 
close  to  me,  unconcerned  and  triumphant,  and  even  seemed 
to  court  a  display  of  violence  upon  my  part.  At  the  mo- 
ment, indeed,  some  vague  thought  of  resistance  occurred 
to  me,  and  I  do  not  know  to  what  lengths  I  might  have 
been  tempted,  but  before  I  had  formed  any  definite 
resolution  the  opportunity  passed  away.  At  this  point 
Morgan  threw  open  the  door  and  came  down  the  steps, 
apparently  dressed  for  a  journey. 

"  Is  all  ready  ? "  Weston  asked,  rising  to  his  feet. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir.     The  cart's  here." 

"  You  have  seen  that  the  men  are  armed  !     It  may  be 


290 


HERONFORD 


useful.  Now,  Mr.  Cassilis,  I  will  have  to  trouble  you. 
Your  own  naturally  excellent  judgment  will  suggest  to 
you  that  it  is  best  to  come  quietly ;  should  you  be  dis- 
posed to  act  otherwise  I  have  no  doubt  Morgan  will  deal 
with  you  as  gently  as  possible  under  the  circumstances, 
but  he  sometimes  forgets  himself,  and  I  should  not  like 
to  answer  for  the  consequences." 

I  rose  to  my  feet  without  making  any  response. 

"  That  is  right.  Permit  me  to  lead  the  way.  I  as- 
sure you  it  is  not  every  gentleman  who  is  afforded  an  op- 
portunity of  seeing  the  world  without  incurring  expense." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE    FIRST    BOW    OF    CAPTAIN    CLAUDE    SLINGSBY 

WHEN  we  got  into  the  open  air  I  found  a  fine  clear 
night  with  a  wide  glitter  of  stars  and  a  new  moon  lifting 
its  thin  crescent  above  the  woods.  The  faint  odour  of 
the  grass  and  foliage  was  inexpressibly  sweet  to  me ;  the 
cool  air,  that  carried  on  its  wings  a  distant  fragrance  of 
the  sea,  revived  me  like  a  charm,  and  I  drank  it  in  like 
one  suffering  from  a  consuming  thirst.  It  blew  upon 
my  face  like  the  breath  of  a  lover ;  it  kissed  my  parched 
lips  and  caressed  my  brow  that  ached  and  throbbed  with 
an  intolerable  pain.  How  cool,  how  sweet  it  was,  the 
blessed  breath  of  that  starry  autumnal  night !  I  had  not 
known  how  weak  and  ill  I  was ;  I  had  hardly  noticed 
the  foul  and  sickening  atmosphere  of  the  loathsome 
cellar  in  which  I  had  been  confined,  but  as  I  came  out 
into  this  clear  brilliance  of  stars  I  felt  as  though  I  had 
awakened  from  a  nightmare  horrible  beyond  words. 

Two  lanterns  had  been  lighted  and  were  placed  upon 
the  grass  hard  by  the  path  that  ran  past  the  door,  but 
their  light  was  hardly  needed.  I  was  able  to  see  every- 
thing quite  plainly.  Upon  one  side  the  wall  of  the  Priory 
rose  dark  and  silent ;  upon  the  other  there  was  a  little 
sweep  of  lawn  enclosed  by  a  dense  growth  of  timber, 
above  which,  as  I  have  said,  the  moon  was  lifting  her 
sickle  of  silver.  A  horse  harnessed  to  a  light  cart  stood 
a  little  distance  away,  and  behind  them  another  horse 

291 


292  HERON-FORD 

bridled  and  saddled.  There  were  already  two  men 
seated  in  the  cart,  but  I  could  not  see  their  faces,  and 
another  held  the  saddle-horse  by  the  head.  I  could  hear 
the  faint  click  of  grasshoppers  in  the  grass,  and  now  and 
again  the  solitary  note  of  an  owl  wakeful  under  the 
moon.  Weston  stopped  to  lock  the  door  behind  us,  but 
Morgan  advanced  to  my  side  and  laid  his  hand  upon  my 
arm.  It  may  have  been  to  some  extent  a  precautionary 
measure  upon  his  part,  unnecessary  though  it  was,  but 
at  the  same  time  I  think  he  desired  in  his  rough,  yet 
kindly  way  to  offer  me  some  assistance. 

"  Keep  up  your  heart,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  he  whispered. 
"  You  may  be  down  on  your  luck  now,  but  'tis  a  long 
lane  that  has  no  turning,  and  mind  this — don't  run 
across  Captain  Claude  if  you  can  help  it.  The  master 
is  purgatory,  but  the  captain  is  simple " 

"  That  will  do,  Morgan,"  said  Weston,  coming 
quietly  behind  us.  "  You  need  not  give  the  captain  a 
character  at  present.  Mr.  Cassilis  can  form  his  own 
judgment;  and  now  look  you — you  must  see  that  Mr. 
Archie  gets  into  no  trouble  till  I  come  back.  I  think 
there  is  one  of  his  old  fits  coming  on  him  and  you  may 
have  to  lock  him  up,  but  if  you  hurt  him  I'll — you  know 
what  I  will  do.  He  doesn't  get  on  well  with  Mr.  Will 
and  you  had  better  keep  them  apart." 

Morgan  hastily  relinquished  my  arm  and  fell  back 
without  a  word.  Whatever  Mr.  Weston's  faults  might 
be,  he  certainly  had  the  art  of  keeping  his  servants  in  an 
excellent  state  of  discipline. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  Weston  continued,  "  I  am  sorry 
that  I  must  trouble  you,  but  we  have  very  little  time  to 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY         293 

lose.  I  intend  to  see  you  as  far  on  your  journey  as  I 
can,  and  will  do  myself  the  honour  of  riding  with  you  to 
Langston.  Here,  Dick,  help  this  gentleman  into  the  cart." 

I  shall  never  forget  this  drive  so  long  as  I  live.  My 
senses  were  preternaturally  acute ;  every  trivial  incident, 
every  sight  and  sound,  is  engraven  in  my  memory.  I 
could  not  bring  myself  to  believe  that  even  at  the  last 
moment  there  would  not  be  a  miraculous  interposition 
of  Providence  upon  my  behalf.  While  the  mare  plunged 
through  the  darkness,  and  her  ringing  hoofs  struck  fire 
from  the  stones,  I  listened  for  the  voices  of  my  friends, 
and  I  was  tempted,  fruitless  and  foolish  as  I  knew  it  to  be, 
to  call  out  loudly  for  help.  The  two  men  sat  so  closely 
upon  either  side  of  me  that  I  could  scarcely  stir ;  I  could 
barely  see  the  road  where  it  wound  in  the  darkness  under 
the  gloomy  shadow  of  the  trees,  and  I  could  only  hear 
Weston's  voice  in  front  when  he  called  out  some  word 
of  warning  or  direction,  but  I  could  see  neither  the  horse 
nor  the  rider.  Occasionally  we  came  upon  a  little  open 
space,  where  I  caught  sight  of  the  cold  calm  stretch  of 
stars  and  the  silver  arc  of  the  autumnal  moon,  but  for  the 
most  part  we  were  whirled  rapidly  through  almost  un- 
broken darkness. 

At  last  we  came  out  upon  the  high-road,  and  here  for 
some  reason  our  pace  became  slower,  and  Weston  drew 
close  to  the  cart  and  gave  some  directions  in  a  low  tone, 

D 

which  I  only  caught  indistinctly.  When  we  came  close 
to  the  village  of  Langston  we  halted  abruptly  and  turned 
down  a  broken,  narrow  lane  that  ran  directly  to  the  sea. 
Here  our  progress  was  necessarily  slow,  and  I  thought 
several  times  we  should  have  stopped  altogether,  but  all  at 


294  HERONFORD 

once  I  caught  the  sweet  breath  of  the  sea,  and  the  silver 
waters  of  the  bay  lay  before  me  reflecting  the  brighter 
glory  of  the  sky.  We  were  not  more  than  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  beach  when  we  climbed  the  abrupt  crest 
of  the  little  hill. 

Never  was  there  a  scene  wilder  and  more  picturesque. 
A  mile  away  on  the  rocky  promontory  that  is  called  the 
Blind  Man's  Head  a  solitary  fire  had  been  lighted,  and 
the  golden  trail  of  light  lay  trembling  on  the  sea.  Hard 
by  us  on  the  beech  another  great  fire  swirled  and  roared, 
and  a  dozen  or  twenty  men  were  hurrying  here  and  there 
in  the  broken  shadows.  Some  distance  from  the  shore  a 
schooner  lay  with  her  tapering  masts  clear  against  the 
moon,  and  a  light  burned  brightly  on  her  deck.  A  boat 
was  passing  from  the  schooner  to  the  shore,  ploughing  a 
furrow  of  phosphorescent  light  on  the  dark,  starry  bosom 
of  the  sea,  and  the  rowers  were  singing  some  wild  sea- 
song  in  excellent  time  as  they  bent  over  their  oars,  but  I 
only  remember  the  chorus  — 

"  Oh !  the  brandy,  the  brandy,  the  brandy  and  the  rum  1 
We'll  bring  the  lace  ashore  for  the  girls  that  we  adore, 
And  we'll  drink  till  the  morning  come." 

The  men  upon  the  beach  were  busily  engaged  piling 
the  square  boxes  and  casks  upon  half  a  dozen  carts,  each 
of  which  was  drawn  by  a  couple  of  horses,  and  were  evi- 
dently working  with  a  will,  for  they  never  paused  in  their 
task.  I  had  known  that  the  entire  population  along  the 
coast  was  in  sympathy,  if  not  in  active  alliance  with  the 
free-traders,  but  I  own  I  was  astonished  at  the  reckless- 
ness and  audacity  of  these  proceedings.  I  could  see  that 
most  of  the  men  were  armed,  and  I  was  sure  that  they 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY         295 

were  prepared  to  fight  if  necessary.  The  ordinary  feeling 
of  antagonism  between  those  who  break  the  law  and  those 
whose  duty  it  is  to  guard  and  protect  it,  had  been 
deepened  into  one  of  intense  hatred  and  desire  for  revenue 
by  a  recent  affray  in  which  a  number  of  lives  had  been 
lost.  It  was  now  quite  apparent  that  the  smugglers  were 
in  sufficient  force  to  repel  any  attack  that  might  be  made 
upon  them,  and  it  may  have  been  for  this  reason  that 
they  neglected  to  take  the  usual  precautions  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  adopting. 

Mr.  Weston  halted  his  horse  for  a  moment  alongside 
the  cart  in  which  I  sat,  and  having  directed  the  men  to 
remain  where  they  were,  rode  down  to  the  beach,  where 
the  boat  had  just  landed  as  he  arrived  there.  At  this 
point  it  was  almost  as  clear  as  noonday,  for  it  was  close 
to  where  the  great  fire  was  roaring,  and  I  could  easily 
distinguish  the  faces  of  the  sailors  as  they  unshipped  their 
oars  and  sprang  knee-deep  into  the  water.  One  man 
still  sat  on  the  boxes  in  the  stern-sheets  with  his  cloak 
drawn  close  about  him. 

"  Ay,  that's  him,"  said  the  man  on  my  right  hand  ; 
"  Captain  Claude's  a  dandy  ;  you  may  take  your  oath  he 
won't  wet  his  feet.  That  will  be  the  last  of  the  cargo." 

"  Old  Harry's  his  own  cousin,"  the  other  answered  with 
evident  conviction.  "  He's  got  the  devil's  luck,  but 
there's  nobody  would  dare  to  do  it  but  himself,  and  as 
fine-mannered  as  a  lady.  Did  you  ever  hear  him  talk  ?  " 

"  I  don't  hold  by  his  manners,  but  I  allow  he's  a  good 
sailor  and  can  handle  his  ship  with  ever  a  man  from 
Langston  to  the  Ness,  but  for  all  that  I  wouldn't  sail 
under  him  for  a  keg  of  diamonds." 


296  HERONFORD 

"  They  say  there's  a  fortune  for  the  king's  officer  that 
can  catch  him,  but  there'll  be  two  moons  in  the  sky  be- 
fore they  do  that.  There  they  are  now ;  the  master 
could  hitch  him  under  his  arm  and  carry  him  to  the 
Priory  like  a  bundle  o'  silk." 

In  the  meantime  the  sailors  had  drawn  the  boat  higher 
up  on  the  beach,  and  one  of  them  taking  the  captain  in 
his  arms  had  carried  him  ashore  and  set  him  down  on  the 
dry  shingle.  Weston  dismounted  from  his  horse,  shook 
him  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  the  two  retired  to  a  dis- 
tance where  they  walked  slowly  together  arm  in  arm,  ap- 
parently engaged  in  an  animated  conversation.  I  watched 
them  walking  up  and  down,  and  I  felt  certain  that  I  knew 
what  formed  the  subject  of  their  deliberation.  They 
walked  in  this  way  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and 
then  I  saw  Weston  halt  and  hold  out  his  hand.  But 
Captain  Slingsby  merely  raised  his  hat,  and  then  the  two 
men  walked  leisurely  toward  where  I  was  standing.  As 
he  came  close  to  me  I  saw  Captain  Claude  distinctly  for 
the  first  time.  He  was  of  quite  diminutive  stature — not 
more  than  five  feet  four  in  height — and  his  face  was  as 
smooth  and  delicate  as  the  face  of  a  girl,  with  the  most 
dreamy  and  melancholy  eyes  in  the  world.  He  had  now 
divested  himself  of  his  cloak,  which  he  carried  over  his 
arm,  and  I  could  see  that  he  wore  fine  silk  stockings  and 
great  silver  buckles,  while  his  blue  coat  and  crimson  vest 
fitted  him  with  exquisite  neatness.  I  imagined  at  the  time 
that  he  was  quite  young,  but  I  found  afterwards  that  he 
must  be  at  least  fifteen  years  older  than  I  had  first  sup- 
posed him.  When  he  smiled  he  showed  the  whitest  and 
most  regular  teeth,  of  which  he  was  inordinately  proud, 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY         297 

and  I  never  knew  him  that  he  did  not  carry  a  jewelled 
snuff-box  in  his  hand. 

"This  is  the  gentleman  who  is  going  to  sail  with  you, 
Captain  Claude,"  Weston  said  as  they  came  up.  "  I 
hope  you  will  make  him  comfortable." 

"  On  the  honour  of  a  gentleman,"  the  captain  answered 
with  a  little  lisp,  which  I  soon  discovered  to  be  a  pure 
affectation.  "  I  am  profoundly  pleased  to  make  your  ac- 
quaintance, Mr.  Cassilis.  I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  find 
ourselves  the  most  excellent  friends  in  the  world." 

"  I  presume,  sir,"  I  said,  "  that  Mr.  Weston  has  told 
you  I  am  his  prisoner  and  how  he  kidnapped  me  ?  It  is 
hardly  necessary  to  continue  this  farce." 

"  A  little  misunderstanding,"  said  Captain  Claude,  wav- 
ing his  hand  airily  j  "  a  disagreeable  necessity  which  some- 
times arises  in  the  noblest  families — a  trifle,  it's  hardly 
worth  one's  while  to  mention.  My  dear  friend,  you  need 
say  no  more.  Permit  me  to  offer  my  profound  commis- 
eration. Believe  me,  I  am  your  most  obedient  servant." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  I  said  bluntly.  "Then  I  am 
sure  you  will  assist  me  to  return  home." 

Captain  Claude's  laugh  was  as  low  and  sweet  as  a  sil- 
ver chime. 

"  'Tis  a  monstrous  pity  I  did  not  know  your  wishes 
earlier — a  thousand  pities — on  the  honour  of  a  mariner. 
It  would  have  been  so  easy ;  I  should  have  enjoyed  your 
society  at  Heronford ;  I  love  the  amenities  of  a  noble 
house.  I  regret,  Mr.  Cassilis,  I  am  bound  by  the  prom- 
ise I  have  rashly  made — I  regret,  nay,  I  am  overwhelmed 
with  remorse." 

He  spoke  so  simply  and  naturally  that  I  could  hardly 


298  HERONFORD 

imagine  that  he  was  playing  with  me,  and  that  he  was  not 
perfectly  sincere.  But  Mr.  Weston's  laugh  was  the  best 
commentary  on  his  speech. 

"  Your  friend,"  I  said,  "  appreciates  your  humour  bet- 
ter than  myself.  I  know  it  is  useless  to  appeal  either  to 
your  pity  or  your  sense  of  fair-play." 

"  I  am  sure  I  have  not  been  misinformed,"  he  answered 
still  in  the  same  tone  ;  "  Mr.  Weston,  of  Langston,  would 
be  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  deceive  his  friend — 
positively  the  last.  I  understood  that  you  wished  to  see 
the  world,  that  you  were  desirous  of  perfecting  your 
education  by  travel ;  in  a  word,  that  you  wished  to  make 
the  grand  tour,  and  that  it  was  to  be  my  honour  and 
felicity  to  see  you  take  the  first  step.  On  my  faith,  a 
delightful  prospect.  Is  it  not  so,  Mr.  Cassilis  ? " 

"  No  one  knows  better  than  yourself,"  I  answered. 
"  I  do  not  doubt  you  will  carry  out  your  instructions." 

"  I  assure  you  to  the  last  point  and  nicest  shade — a 
gentleman  has  no  alternative.  I  have  promised,  Mr. 
Cassilis ;  I  am  bound  by  my  word.  As  a  gentleman 
you  would  not  have  me  break  my  word  ?  " 

"  From  what  I  have  heard  of  you  I  am  sure  you  will 
keep  it." 

"  Ah  j  you  pay  me  a  delicate  compliment — a  charming 
compliment.  Mr.  Weston,  our  friend  appreciates  the 
situation.  Had  I  known  earlier  that  you  had  such  strong 
objections  to  the  voyage  I  should  not  have  consented  to 
receive  you — my  better  feelings  would  not  have  permitted 
it.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  my  friends  unhappy." 

"  Captain  Slingsby  is  a  gentleman  of  sentiment,"  said 
Weston  with  a  sneer. 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY         299 

"  It  is  the  air  I  breathe,"  cried  the  captain,  with  a  nice 
flourish  of  his  handkerchief.  "  I  live  for  love  and  friend- 
ship. Do  not  misjudge  me,  Mr.  Cassilis;  pray  do  not 
misjudge  me,  it  would  make  me  the  unhappiest  of  men. 
I  would  not  hurt  your  feelings  for  the  world.  But  duty 
is  imperative — duty  and  honour." 

"  And  Mr.  Weston  agrees  with  you.  I  assure  you, 
sir,  I  already  know  the  fate  that  is  in  store  for  me,  and 
I  am  afraid  I  am  in  no  position  to  appreciate  your  fine 
language." 

"  Ah  !  do  not  say  that.  That  would  indeed  be  an  un- 
fortunate circumstance.  I  merely  desire  to  pave  the  way 
to  an  abiding  friendship.  I  anticipate  many  delightful 
evenings  in  your  society  unmarred  by  recrimination  and 
reproach.  We  will  rise  above  the  narrow  feelings  of  self- 
interest  ;  we  will  forget  our  selfish  fears ;  we  will  drink  the 
undiluted  nectar  of  friendship.  Judge  no  man  harshly, 
Mr.  Cassilis,  and  especially  a  poor  sailor  whose  coarse  and 
halting  speech  is  always  doing  wrong  to  his  tender  heart." 

His  gravity  was  absolute ;  he  spoke  with  the  emphasis 
and  deliberation  of  profound  conviction. 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  I  said,  "  you  will  carry  out  your 
instructions.  You  will  do  justice  to  your  reputation." 

"  Ah  !  my  reputation — the  breath  of  a  cold,  unfeeling 
world.  You  are  sneering,  Mr.  Cassilis ;  you  show  me  the 
false  reflection  of  my  face  in  the  glass  of  groundless 
slander.  That  is  nothing,  sir.  It  is  true  I  am  beyond 
the  law  and  the  dogs  of  justice  are  laid  upon  my  track. 
And  then?  There  are  good  laws  and  bad  laws;  I 
solemnly  revere  the  good  and  just  as  solemnly  despise 
the  bad.  My  conscience  is  above  the  law ;  it  makes  its 


300  HERONFORD 

own.  A  free  trader — a  smuggler — a  contrabandist  ? 
Words,  only  words.  I  pour  wealth  into  the  bosom  of 
my  country ;  I  increase  its  commerce ;  I  enlarge  its 
knowledge,  and  improve  its  taste.  So  far  I  am  the  bene- 
factor of  my  kind,  and  hope  for  my  reward  in  the  ap- 
plause and  admiration  of  posterity,  and  in  that  proud 
confidence  I  despise  the  slanders  you  have  heard." 

"  Mr.  Cassilis  will  know  the  full  extent  of  your  per- 
fections before  you  have  finished  with  him,"  laughed 
Mr.  Weston. 

But  the  captain  turned  upon  him  fiercely. 

"  You  be ,  sir.  My  remarks  we  not  addressed  to 

you.  Yours  is  not  the  example  I  should  follow  ;  yours  is 
not  the  appreciation  that  I  seek.  My  misfortune  makes 
you  my  employer,  but  my  deserts  prevent  me  from  making 
you  my  friend.  Remember  that,  Mr.  Weston,  and  re- 
member that  I  will  tolerate  no  impertinence  from  any 
country  squire  from  Land's  End  to  John  o'  Groats. 
Remember  that,  and  be to  you." 

But  Weston  refused  to  see  any  cause  for  quarrel,  and 
shook  his  head  with  an  appearance  of  rough  good-humour. 

"  We  won't  quarrel,  Claude — at  least,  not  till  we  have 
squared  accounts.  You  are  as  full  of  fire  as  a  flint  and 
always  had  a  blind  eye  to  my  graces,  but  I  admit  that  you 
are  the  prince  and  pink  of  mariners.  There  goes  the  last 
of  the  cargo — a  good  one  and  safely  landed.  I  can  hear 
Swain  swearing  by  this  time  how  we  have  hoaxed  him. 
When  do  you  get  under  weigh  ?  " 

"  When  the  Lord  pleases,  my  bucolic  friend,"  answered 
the  captain,  who  had  not  yet  quite  recovered  his  equa- 
nimity. "  If  you  will  come  aboard  with  myself  and  my 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY         301 

excellent  compeer,  Mr.  Cassilis,  you  may  have  an  op- 
portunity of  observing  the  dangers  of  my  calling." 

Mr.  Weston  laughed. 

"  I  wouldn't  sail  with  you,  you  little  devil,  for  the 
wealth  of  the  Indies.  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Your  keen  senses  will  observe,"  said  Captain  Slingsby 
with  a  well-marked  lisp,  which  for  some  minutes  had  dis- 
appeared, "  that  it  is  now  a  flat  calm.  We  brought  the 
last  of  the  breeze  with  us,  and  upon  my  honour  I  be- 
lieve— nay,  I  avow,  I  was  the  d — est  fool  under  heaven 
to  come  in  here  in  weather  like  this.  The  Spitfire  is 
somewhere  on  the  coast,  and  should  she  manage  to  stum- 
ble upon  us  here  there  is  a  chance  that  we  may  find  our- 
selves full-fledged  angels,  beating  the  nebulous  ether  with 
post-mortem  pinions.  You  see  I  cannot  surrender  with 
grace,  for  I  have  a  constitutional  and  natural  objection 
to  being  hanged  in  the  vulgar  manner  which  is  now  the 
fashion." 

"  Then  I'll  pray  that  you  may  have  a  breeze  before 
morning." 

"  With  your  permission  I  should  prefer  that  you  per- 
mitted matters  to  take  their  natural  course ;  your  inter- 
ference is  unnecessary.  However,  if  you  are  unwilling 
that  Mr.  Cassilis  should  undergo  the  risk,  he  may  remain 
ashore  and  wait  for  more-  propitious  circumstances.  You 
will  observe  that  I  am  acquainted  with  his  Majesty's  brig 
Spitfire  and  her  captain.  I  know  that  the  one  has  a  con- 
suming and  unnatural  desire  to  put  an  end  to  my  little 
ventures  since  the  accidental  explosion  of  my  long  gun 
which  carried  away  an  infinitesimal  portion  of  his  rigging, 
and  the  other  when  it  comes  to  reaching  has  decidedly 


HERONFORD 

the  heels  of  us.  You  are  aware  that  I  dislike  fighting, 
Mr.  Weston,  but  I  fear,  alas  !  I  am  convinced,  that  dis- 
agreeable alternative  would  be  forced  upon  me  should 
the  Spit/ire  find  me  here.  Mr.  Cassilis  as  a  non-com- 
batant   " 

41  He  will  be  delighted  to  see  how  you  handle  your 
ship,  Claude,"  Weston  answered  with  a  laugh.  "  He 
wouldn't  miss  the  sight  for  a  thousand  pounds.  There's 
no  doubt  it's  cursed  weather  and  this  would  be  an  ugly 
place  to  be  caught  in,  but  I  hope  you'll  get  a  breeze  from 
the  land  before  morning." 

"  Should  it  prove  otherwise,  my  good  friend,  I  think 
you  may  bid  farewell  to  your  share  in  the  little  Swallow, 
and  for  Claude  Slingsby — gentle  Claude  Slingsby — he 
will  never  run  another  cargo  ashore  or  watch  for  the 
signal  fire  from  Blind  Man's  Head.  One  splendid  mo- 
ment, sir,  one  moment  worth  a  life  time,  and  then  it  will 
be  all  over.  The  sun  will  set,  the  wind  will  blow,  the 
tides  will  flow  and  ebb,  but  only  a  lingering  memory  will 
tell  how  Claude  Slingsby  fought  his  ship  and  went  to 
Davy  Jones  like  a  good  sailor  and  a  loyal  gentleman." 

The  little  captain  had  taken  off  his  hat  and  stood  bare- 
headed with  his  clear,  soft  face  and  shining  eyes  turned 
to  the  light.  His  voice,  that  had  grown  for  the  moment 
deep  and  musical,  vibrated  with  emotion,  and  though  I 
saw  a  certain  grim  humour  in  the  situation,  I  felt  not  the 
slightest  inclination  to  smile.  But  Weston  was  evidently 
more  familiar  with  his  moods  and  manner. 

"You  always  croak  like  a  frog,  Claude,"  he  said.  "I 
have  never  known  you  yet  that  you  were  not  on  the 
point  of  a  glorious  death,  and  that  drunk  or  sober.  The 


CAPTAIN  CL4UDE  SLINGSBY         303 

Spitfire  will  no  more  catch  you  this  time  than  she  has  at 
any  other  for  the  last  four  years,  and  if  she  did,  why, 
man,  you  can't  expect  Nature  to  stand  still  at  the  catas- 
trophe." 

Captain  Slingsby  bowed  with  a  frigid  politeness  and 
replaced  his  hat  on  his  head. 

"  I  look  for  neither  sentiment  nor  regret  at  your  hands, 
sir.  You  remain  as  you  were  quarried,  uncouth,  un- 
hewn, unpolished — but  you  are  for  the  time  being  my 

employer,  and  be to  you,  sir.  Our  interview  has 

lasted  too  long  ;  I  will  bid  you  adieu.  And  look  here," 

he  cried,  turning  round,  "you  lubbers,  get  that 

gentleman  aboard  the  boat,  and "  — I  will  not  repeat 

his  profanity — "  if  you  don't  hurry,  you  swabs,  I  will 

break  every  bone  in  your  bodies.  Hurry  along 

now ;  lift  you  feet ;  show  your  heels.  Why  the 

do  you  stand  like  a  pair  of  moonstruck  calves  ?  Don't  I 
speak  plain  enough  ?  " 

I  was  beginning  to  understand  why  men  were  afraid 
of  Captain  Slingsby.  I  had  never  seen  a  man  more 
wholly  possessed  by  a  demoniac  passion,  and  that  by  an 
instantaneous  change.  His  lisp  had  vanished ;  the  soft 
and  melancholy  look  had  passed  from  his  face.  His 
form  seemed  to  dilate ;  his  eyes  blazed  and  his  voice  rang 
out  hard  and  clear.  And  yet  there  was  no  cause  for  this 
passionate  outburst ;  it  was  so  sudden  and  unaccountable 
that  I  was  lost  in  amazement.  But  I  was  left  no  time 
for  speculation.  The  two  men,  who  had  remained  in 
close  attendance  upon  me  all  the  time,  caught  hold  of 
me  by  the  arms  and  hurried  me  to  the  boat  before  I 
could  utter  a  word  of  protest. 


3o4  HERONFORD 

By  this  time  the  shore  was  almost  deserted.  The 
carts  and  horses  had  disappeared  in  a  file  along  the  road 
over  the  sand-hills ;  the  fire  upon  the  beach  was  burning 
lower  like  a  great  eye  of  light  in  the  darkness,  and  only 
the  boat  waited  for  the  captain  and  myself,  moving  un- 
easily as  it  lay  almost  aground  in  the  lazy  tide.  I  was 
bundled  into  the  stern,  though  with  no  great  violence, 
and  I  now  saw  that  the  crew  was  fully  armed.  They 
looked  at  me  curiously  for  a  moment,  but  no  one  made 
any  remark,  nor  had  I  any  cause  to  complain  of  their 
treatment,  though  I  confess  their  appearance  was  not 
such  as  to  inspire  me  with  confidence.  A  more  forbid- 
ding set  of  ruffians  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  in  my 
life,  but  whether  it  was  the  proximity  of  their  dreaded  cap- 
tain or  the  usual  discipline  to  which  they  were  accus- 
tomed, no  crew  in  any  king's  ship  could  have  sat  more 
silent  and  impassive. 

I  watched  Weston  and  Captain  Slingsby  still  walking 
up  and  down  in  the  wavering  shadows  of  the  fire,  and 
saw  the  former  stop  once  or  twice  to  laugh  at  something 
his  companion  had  said.  He  was  evidently  in  very  high 
spirits,  a  state  of  mind  to  which  the  successful  landing 
of  the  cargo  and  the  removal  of  John  Cassilis  may  both 
have  contributed.  Then  they  came  slowly  down  to 
where  the  boat  was  lying,  Mr.  Weston  with  his  hand 
resting  upon  the  captain's  shoulder. 

"  It  is  farewell  at  last,  my  gallant  captain,"  Weston 
said.  "  I  wish  you  a  good  voyage  and  never  a  ship  on 
the  sea  but  yourself.  Good  luck." 

The  captain  lifted  his  hat  slightly,  and  wading  through 
the  water  stepped  into  the  boat  beside  me. 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE  SLINGSBY         305 

• 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Weston.  The  devil  and  I  will  carry 
out  your  instructions  between  us,  and  if  I  should  happen 
to  visit  him  this  trip  I  will  convey  to  him  your  respectful 
compliments  and  inform  him  that  you  will  not  be  long 
after  me.  Good-bye,  my  flower  of  brimstone,  and  now 

you get  me  aboard  in  a  twinkling  for  I  must  change 

my  stockings  or  I  shall  catch  my  death  of  cold.  Look 
alive,  you " 

He  leaned  back  in  the  stern-sheets  with  an  air  of  ex- 
treme languor  and  drew  his  cloak  closely  about  him,  nor 
did  he  speak  a  word  till  we  were  alongside  the  schooner. 
Then  he  turned  to  me. 

"  This  is  my  poor  ship,  Mr.  Cassilis.  As  companions 
in  misfortune,  the  quarry  of  a  cruel  fate,  I  shall  en- 
deavour to  make  you  comfortable  during  our  temporary 
sojourn  together.  May  I  ask  you  to  step  aboard — a  poor 
and  narrow  dwelling-place,  but  large  and  wide  enough 
for  the  sweep  and  play  of  noble  spirits." 

One  of  the  men  laughed  behind  him  but  the  captain 
was  perfectly  grave. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

CAPTAIN    CLAUDE    SLINGSBY's    EXIT 

IT  'was  a  night  of  breathless  calm  when  we  came 
aboard  the  Swallow.  The  tender  crescent  of  the  moon 
lay  like  a  fairy  pinnace  in  the  western  sky,  and  the  stars 
were  dying  out  in  the  wide  sweep  of  the  stirless  sea. 
The  fires  upon  the  headland  and  the  beach  were  now 
only  little  points  of  faint  light  in  the  darkness ;  there  was 
no  movement  in  the  deck  under  my  feet. 

Captain  Slingsby  with  infinite  grace  of  manner  drew 
his  arm  within  my  own  and  brought  me  to  his  cabin, 
where  a  supper  was  already  spread  upon  the  table. 
Nothing  would  have  surprised  me  regarding  this  remark- 
able man,  but  I  was  certainly  unprepared  for  my  sur- 
roundings, the  like  of  which  I  had  never  seen  before. 
The  cabin  was  not  very  large,  but  it  was  brilliantly  lighted 
by  a  silver  lamp  of  beautiful  workmanship  which  hung 
from  the  ceiling.  At  one  end  a  massive  crucifix  was 
placed  upon  the  wall,  and  beneath  it  was  a  small  prie-Dieu 
with  a  number  of  candles  fixed  in  silver  sconces.  At  the 
other  side  was  a  bookcase  filled  with  books  bound  in 
bright,  red  leather,  and  beside  this  there  was  a  guitar  in  a 
greenbaise  cover  and  several  musical  instruments  in  a 
rack.  The  tablecloth  was  of  a  snowy  whiteness,  and  I 
noticed  that  nearly  all  the  appointments  were  of  silver. 

The  captain  threw  aside  his  cloak  as  we  entered  and 
bowed  me  to  a  chair. 

u  Make  yourself  at  home,  my  dear  friend,"  he  said 
with  an  engaging  smile,  "  and  forget  the  unfortunate  cir- 

306 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  307 

cumstances  under  which  we  are  compelled  to  meet.  For- 
get and  be  happy.  With  your  permission  I  shall  retire 
for  a  moment.  My  delicate  constitution  requires  that  I 
should  change  my  stockings — a  weakness  I  could  never 
overcome — but  that  being  done  I  shall  rejoin  you  in  a 
moment." 

When  he  returned  I  observed  that  in  the  meantime 
Captain  Claude  had  not  been  forgetful  of  his  personal 
appearance.  He  had  newly  arranged  his  hair,  which  was 
naturally  very  luxuriant  and  glossy ;  a  slight  touch  of 
rouge  had  brightened  his  complexion  and  added  roses  to 
his  cheeks ;  a  fine  diamond  sparkled  in  his  bosom,  and 
the  fingers  of  both  his  hands — small  as  a  girl's — were 
covered  with  brilliants.  He  carried  a  cambric  handker- 
chief which  he  pressed  occasionally  to  his  lips  with  the 
air  of  a  petit  maitre. 

"  Now,  my  dear  Mr.  Cassilis,  with  your  permission  we 
shall  have  supper,"  he  said,  taking  the  chair  at  the  head  of 
the  table  and  touching  the  bell ;  "  a  swinish  but  necessary 
meal.  I  find  it  clouds  my  understanding  and  darkens  my 
more  delicate  perceptions,  but  if  we  are  indeed  spirit  we 
are  also  flesh — alas  !  flesh  and  blood.  Though  I  dislike 
supper  I  cannot  afford  to  dispense  with  it.  We  must 
humour  our  fallen  nature.  Chicken,  Anthony,  and  tongue 
garnished  with  the  classic  parsley,"  he  continued  as  the 
steward  entered, "  and,  Anthony,  cheese  and  butter  for  Mr. 
Cassilis.  And,  my  excellent  Anthony,  the  water  for  myself 
and  wine — two  bottles  of  the  green  seal — for  my  respected 

guest.  When  you  have  done  that  you  may  go  to in 

double  quick  time  for  Mr.  Cassilis  and  myself  intend  to 
have  a  night  with  the  Muses  and  the  elder  Gods.     And, 


308  HERONFORD 

Anthony,  tell  Mr.  Peacocke  I  want  a  word  with  him  now. 
Pardon  me,  Mr.  Cassilis,  but  one  must  attend  to  business." 

A  moment  or  two  afterwards  the  mate  and  steward 
entered  almost  together. 

"  Ah,  Peacocke,  I  sent  for  you.  We  have  made  a 
good  voyage  of  it,  but  we  must  get  out  of  this.  No  one 
knows  why  better  than  yourself." 

"  I  own  I  am  growing  uneasy,  sir." 

"  You  have  very  good  reason,  Mr.  Peacocke,"  the 
captain  laughed  pleasantly,  "  for  you  will  infallibly  be 
hanged  if  we  are  taken — most  unpleasant  operation. 
You  must  get  every  rag  on  the  schooner  with  the  first 
breath  of  air  and  we  must  take  our  risk  of  the  tide  ;  for  I 
had  rather  go  on  the  rocks  than  sail  into  Execution  Dock. 
Do  not  hesitate  to  call  me  should  you  want  me." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir." 

"  And,  Peacocke,  you  had  better  see  that  the  carronade 
is  got  ready  ;  and,  Peacocke " 

"  Sir." 

"  Have  an  eye  to  the  smallarms  and  see  that  the  cut- 
lasses are  in  order.  My  fellows  are  apt  to  be  careless, 
and  a  good  edge,  Peacocke,  is  an  excellent  thing  both  in 
steel  and  an  appetite." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir.     There  is  nothing  more  ?  " 

"  I  think  not.  Ah,  yes,  leave  the  case-bottle  alone  till 
we  are  going  into  action  or  get  into  port  and  then  you 
may  drink  yourself  drunk  with  my  full  authority  and  per- 
mission, but  not  a  drop  till  then." 

"  Very  well,  sir,  I  shall  observe  your  instructions." 

"  An  animal,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  the  captain  continued  when 
the  mate  had  retired,  "  a  very  useful  animal  and  an  ex- 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  309 

cellent  seaman,  but  no  companion  for  a  man  of  breeding 
and  sentiment  like  myself.  That  is  the  curse  of  my  call- 
ing, sir.  I  must  rejoice  among  barbarians  and  live  among 
savages,  and  the  fine  and  delicate  flowers  of  feeling  and 
fancy  wither  away  without  appreciation.  I  may  work 
with  men  like  Weston  and  Peacocke,  but  how  in  heaven's 
name  can  I  confide  in  them  or  make  them  the  partners 
of  my  heart  ?  " 

"  And  yet  Mr.  Weston  has  shown  that  he  has  a  good 
deal  of  confidence  in  you,"  I  said  gravely.  "  Will  you 
allow  me  to  tell  you  what  you  are  doing  for  him  ? " 

"Ah  !  better  not.  Rather  let  me  help  you  to  a  wing 
of  this  most  tender  chicken,  and  try  a  glass  of  that  wine 
of  France  in  which  the  spirit  of  the  vine  is  dancing  like 
sunshine.  I  drink  water  myself,  but  that  is  merely  a 
weakness  against  which  I  have  been  fighting  all  my  life. 
Always  avoid  unpleasant  topics  while  you  can  and  make 
the  most  of  the  shining  hour.  There  was  a  poet  once — 
Horatius  Flaccus — whose  Latin  I  have  forgotten,  though 
it  was  whipped  into  me  till  I  ran  away  to  sea,  but  I  have 
never  forgotten  his  charming  philosophy.  Ah  !  Mr.  Cas- 
silis,  remember  Horatius  Flaccus — you  also  are  a  scholar 
— and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  my  wine." 

"  I  may  seem  ungrateful,"  I  said,  "  but  I  am  afraid  I 
am  unable  to  forget  my  situation.  I  cannot  forget  what 
I  have  come  through  :  I  cannot  forget  you  are  carrying 
me  into  slavery — that  you  are  carrying  me  into  a  life 
worse  than  death.  It  is  enough  almost  to  unsettle  my 
reason  when  I  think  of  it." 

"  Then  why  think  of  it  at  all,  my  poor  friend,"  said  the 
captain  soothingly.  "  Believe  me  I  deplore  the  circum- 


3  io  HERONFORD 

stances  as  much  as  yourself,  possibly  more,  but  upon  my 
honour  as  a  gentleman  I  am  in  no  degree  to  blame — it 
was  not  and  is  not  my  fault.  I  have  kept  my  word  all 
my  life ;  I  have  never  varied  from  it  to  the  value  or 
breadth  of  a  hair;  I  have  sailed  in  the  eye  of  duty  as  to  a 
point  of  the  compass.  In  a  moment  of  weakness — are 
the  angels  themselves  exempt  from  weakness  ? — I  gave 
Mr.  Weston  my  word  of  honour — yes,  sir,  my  word  of 
honour — that  I  would  carry  a  passenger  for  him  to  Havre 
— that  pleasant  town  on  the  sunny  shores  of  France.  I 
knew  nothing  more  than  that,  and  indeed  I  cared  for  noth- 
ing more.  I  was  paid  for  my  promise,  which  meant  with 
Claude  Slingsby  the  full  performance  of  his  contract.  And 
yet,  believe  me,  I  would  not  cause  you  pain  for  the  world." 

"  Can  you  not  put  yourself  in  my  place  ? "  I  cried. 
"  And  the  crime " 

The  captain  smiled  and  waved  his  handkerchief  airily. 

"  Crime  is  only  the  creature  of  the  law,  and  like  the 
king  I  am  afraid  I  am  above  the  law.  The  law  has  no 
terrors  for  me,  Mr.  Cassilis,  and  no  claims  upon  me.  I 
would  not  violate  my  conscience  or  prove  false  to  my 
word  and  my  friend  for  all  the  laws  of  Europe." 

"  I  think  you  have  a  heart  somewhere,  Captain 
Slingsby,"  I  cried  despairingly.  "  Will  you  permit  me 
to  tell  you  my  story  ?  " 

"  I  am  all  heart,  sir,"  he  answered,  apparently  flattered, 
"  and  that  is  why  I  am  now  captain  of  the  Swallow  and 
not  flying  the  flag  of  an  admiral,  as  many  a  worse  man  is 
doing.  Endeavour  not  to  pain  me  too  much  and  I  will 
hear  your  tale." 

He   poured   himself  out  a  glass  of  water  and  settled 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  311 

himself  in  his  chair  with  the  look  of  a  martyr.  I  did  not 
quite  understand  him ;  I  was  young,  and  hoped  that  I 
might  touch  him  and  win  his  sympathy,  and  in  that  hope 
I  began  my  story.  I  was  terribly  in  earnest;  I  felt  that 
my  fate  was  depending  on  the  issue,  and  I  watched  his 
face  with  my  heart  in  my  eyes.  At  first  he  was  listless 
and  indifferent,  now  and  again  sipping  the  water  in  his 
glass  with  an  air  of  apathy,  but  gradually  I  saw  that  he 
was  growing  interested,  and  finally  I  knew  that  I  held 
his  sympathy  in  my  hand.  That  knowledge  inspired  me. 
I  pictured  the  hope  and  joy  that  were  growing  in  my  life 
— my  sweetheart's  love  and  beauty — the  unmerited  in- 
jury my  rival  had  inflicted  on  me — the  sufferings  I  had 
endured — the  awful  fate  that  was  in  store  for  me,  and 
when  I  had  finished  I  saw  without  astonishment  that 
there  were  tears  in  his  eyes.  He  was  as  much  moved  as 
myself.  Then  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and  leaning  across  the 
table  held  out  his  hand  to  me. 

"  My  poor  friend,"  he  cried,  "  as  heaven  is  my  witness 
I  pity  you  with  all  my  heart." 

"  I  knew,"  I  said,  "  I  should  win  your  pity.  You  did 
not  know  the  truth." 

"  The  truth  !  I  knew  nothing.  On  my  oath,  as  a 
gentleman,  Weston  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  double- 
dyed  villain." 

"  He  has  certainly  treated  me  villainously." 

"  He  has  treated  you  like  a  scoundrel.  And  the  tall, 
sweet  girl  with  the  shining  eyes  and  lips  like  Cupid's  bow 
— Mr.  Cassilis,  he  will  break  her  heart— I  am  certain  he 
will  break  her  heart.  Good  God,  sir,  the  devil  made  a 
world  in  which  such  things  are  possible." 


3i2  HERONFORD 

"At  least  you  are  now  glad  that  you  listened  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  shall  regret  it  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  Regret  it  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  I  shall  ever  get  your  cursed  story  out  of 
my  head  ?  Do  you  think  I  am  a  mere  block — a  creature 
fashioned  without  a  heart  and  a  beast  born  without  a  con- 
science ?  Do  you  think  that  I  can  go  through  life  with 
equanimity,  knowing  that  I  have  made  myself  the  tool  of 
this  designing  knave,  who  should  be  a  gentleman  and  is 
merely  an  unwhipped  rogue  ?  Ah  !  Mr.  Cassilis,  I  shall 
regret  the  night  I  met  you  so  long  as  I  live." 

"  But,"  I  said  in  astonishment,  for  I  had  believed  I  had 
made  him  entirely  my  friend,  "you  will  not  permit  him  to 
carry  out  his  wickedness  ?  You  will  save  me  from  the  fate 
he  had  in  store  for  me  ?  I  am  surely  safe  in  your  keeping." 

He  threw  up  his  hands  with  an  air  of  extreme  de- 
jection. 

"  I  am  powerless,  sir — powerless  to  help  myself  or  you. 
What  can  I  do  ?  What  would  you  have  me  do  ?  Mr. 
Weston  is  a  rogue,  but  he  trusted  me — he  confided  you 
to  my  hands.  I  gave  him  my  promise  ;  I  took  his  filthy 
pay,  and  under  these  circumstances,  if  the  whole  future 
of  my  life  was  passed  with  broken  hearts  and  every  heart 
my  own,  I  could  not  withdraw  a  step  but  go  right  on  to 
the  place  of  torment  that  is  prepared  for  me.  I  have 
broken  every  law,  divine  and  human,  but  I  have  never 
broken  my  word." 

He  spoke  with  an  air  of  indescribable  pride,  and  I 
saw  in  a  moment  that  I  had  been  speaking  to  ears  as 
deaf  as  Weston's  own.  Whatever  else  might  happen  I 
need  look  for  no  help  from  Captain  Slingsby. 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  313 

"  I  see,"  I  cried,  "that  nothing  I  can  say  will  alter  you." 

"My  mind  is  fixed,  Mr.  Cassilis,  as  the  pole  star. 
The  situation  lies,  so  to  speak,  in  a  nutshell.  I  do  not 
love  my  task,  but  it  is  my  duty  to  carry  you  to  Havre, 
and  carry  you  to  Havre  I  will  if  God's  winds  and  the 
king's  enemies  permit.  But  that  need  not  prevent  our 
being  and  remaining  friends.  Why  should  it  ?  We  are 
both  the  victims  of  adverse  circumstances — I  of  a  rash 
and  hasty  promise,  you  of  a  bad  man's  enmity.  I  do 
not  upbraid  you  that  by  your  means  I  am  doing  an  act 
of  grave  injustice  and  cruelty,  nor  need  you  reproach  me 
that  I  lend  myself  to  that  act.  Rather  let  us  forget  it 
for  the  time  and  make  the  most  of  the  shining  hour." 

He  drew  the  cork  from  the  bottle  and  filled  my  glass 
with  an  appearance  of  great  cordiality. 

"  We  have  had  enough  of  the  past,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  he 
said  ;  "  let  us  talk  of  the  rosy  future." 

"  Ah  !  the  rosy  future  !  "  I  cried  bitterly. 

"  Or  rather  let  us  talk  of  supper,"  he  answered,  see- 
ing my  meaning,  "  which  you  have  still  left  untasted.  I 
remember  the  time  I  could  not  eat  myself,  but  now  I 
think  there  is  no  chance  or  change  in  this  changing  world 
that  could  rob  me  of  my  appetite.  I  am  not  perhaps 
what  you  would  call  a  religious  man,  but  I  am  something 
of  a  theologian  and  have  a  taste  for  divinity.  I  believe 
most  strongly  in  the  decrees  of  Providence,  and  am  cer- 
tain you  cannot  alter  them  by  forbearing  to  dine  or  sup." 

"  I  am  in  no  position  to  quarrel  with  you,  Captain 
Slingsby  ;  I  will  do  whatever  you  desire." 

"  Ah  !  that  is  a  more  hopeful  frame  of  mind.  Now  a 
little  more  chicken  and  a  glass  of  the  sunny  south.  Ah  ! 


HERONFORD 

Mr.  Cassilis,  I  have  an  idea  that  you  may  never  see 
Havre  after  all." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  cried  eagerly. 

"  I  am  the  victim  of  presentiments,"  he  said  dreamily. 
"  The  airy  voices  of  the  future  have  whispered  in  my 
ear  from  childhood,  and  misfortune  has  always  knocked 
a  warning  note  at  my  heart  before  she  dealt  her  crushing 
blow.  It  is  probable  there  may  be  a  fight  this  trip,  Mr. 
Cassilis,"  he  went  on  softly,  "  and  it  is  possible  that  the 
Swallow  has  made  her  last  voyage.  I  have  had  some- 
thing like  that  in  my  mind  for  the  last  two  days,  and  yet 
you  see  I  can  make  my  supper  with  a  hearty  appetite." 

"  And  what  will  happen  then  ?  "  I  asked  with  curiosity. 

"  Ah  !  what  indeed  ?  There  is  a  little  breeze  from 
the  south — an  air  soft  and  tender  as  a  maiden's  breath — 
the  Swallow  hardly  stirs — the  sky  is  blue  and  cloudless 
— and  suddenly  the  air  is  filled  with  shouts  and  cheers, 
the  flash  and  smoke  of  guns,  and  someone  cries  that  the 
Swallow  is  sinking  by  the  head.  The  bottom  is  yellow 
sand  and  shells,  Mr.  Cassilis,  and  the  bones  of  Claude 
Slingsby  and  his  gentle  mariners  will  lie  there  side  by 
side  till  the  trumpet  of  the  judgment." 

I  know  that  I  can  only  give  you  a  faint  idea  of  the 
man,  and  I  certainly  cannot  describe  the  air  with  which 
he  spoke  these  words  or  the  tone  that  he  used.  He 
seemed  to  me  to  be  almost  dreaming  with  his  eyes  open, 
but  he  spoke  like  one  speaking  under  a  sense  of  profound 
conviction,  and  describing  what  he  actually  saw  pass  be- 
fore his  eyes.  A  prophet  in  a  blue  coat  and  crimson 
vest,  with  rouge  on  his  cheeks,  rings  on  his  fingers,  and 
the  smooth  unlined  face  of  a  boy  may  seem  a  curious 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  315 

spectacle,  yet  its  incongruity,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  did 
not  strike  me,  and  I  treated  him  with  a  perfectly  serious 
attention.  At  first  sight,  you  would  have  thought  Cap- 
tain Slingsby  an  object  meant  for  ridicule  and  the  provo- 
cation of  laughter.  His  precise  and  finical  manner,  his 
affected  lisp,  his  splendid  dress  and  diminutive  figure,  his 
absurd  speeches  and  florid  language  were  all  in  the  true 
comedy  manner,  and  yet  I  should  never  at  any  time  have 
thought  of  laughing  at  or  with  him.  These  things  were, 
it  seemed  to  me,  merely  a  transparent  mask  that  never 
hid  the  real  man.  At  the  most  unexpected  moments  his 
true  nature  would  flash  in  his  eyes,  and  when  you  would 
look  to  see  him  soft  as  silk  you  would  find  him  hard  as 
iron.  The  man  fascinated  and  bewildered  me.  His 
mind  made  as  many  leaps  and  changes  as  a  harlequin, 
and  yet  he  was  always  so  demoniacally  in  earnest  that  he 
only  impressed  you  with  wonder  and  curiosity. 

He  now  described  the  fate  of  the  Swallow  with  the 
earnestness  of  one  who  was  watching  the  scene  unrolled 
before  his  eyes,  and  from  that  he  passed  to  the  subject 
of  dreams  and  visions.  This  was  evidently  a  favourite 
topic  with  him.  He  narrated  a  hundred  instances  of  his 
own  power  of  second  sight ;  he  recounted  the  miraculous 
dreams  that  had  warned  him  of  impending  dangers ;  and 
spoke  of  the  spirits  that  seemed  to  be  his  constant  com- 
panions. I  never  spoke  a  word  but  sat  and  listened  to 
him,  fascinated  by  his  shining  eyes  and  eager,  animated 
face. 

Then  he  waved  his  hand  airily,  and  laughed  a  pleasant 
approval  of  his  own  power  of  narrative. 

"  You  are  a  companion  after  my  own  heart,  but  I 


3i6  HERONFORD 

weary  you,  Mr.  Cassilis.  I  like  to  ramble  through  this 
fairyland  of  wonder,  and  look  through  the  prison  bars  of 
the  unseen.  I  never  rest ;  I  never  tire ;  I  could  fly  for- 
ever with  the  spirits  through  the  infinite  of  space.  The 
world  does  not  know  Claude  Slingsby.  You  think  me  a 
strange  being  ?  " 

"  I  have  met  many  men  who  are  different." 

"  Why,  that  is  a  wise  and  harmless  answer.  But  you 
think  I  am  a  bad  man.  I  have  treated  you  like  a  pig. 
Oh  !  you  need  not  answer  me,  I  know  your  mind." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  know  my  own  mind  regarding  you." 

11  No  ?  Then  you  must  go  to  bed  and  think  me  over. 
I  have  taken  you  to  my  heart,  Mr.  Cassilis ;  I  have  num- 
bered you  among  my  friends.  Your  eyes  please  me ;  your 
ingenious  youth  has  won  my  sympathy  ;  you  are  honest, 
sincere,  generous,  and  unfortunate.  Meliora  probo." 

He  rose  from  the  table  and  going  to  the  other  side  of 
the  cabin  took  the  guitar  out  of  the  case,  and  coming 
back  resumed  his  seat.  For  some  time  he  did  not  say 
anything,  but  sat  fingering  the  strings  with  his  head  a 
little  bent  to  one  side.  Then  he  looked  up  at  me  with 
a  look  which  seemed  to  me  almost  shy  and  apologetic. 

"  I  know  you  are  tired  out,"  he  said,  "  and  so  am  I, 
but  this  is  my  own  best  friend,  and  I  have  a  habit — a 
foolish,  harmless  habit — of  forgetting  my  fancies  for  the 
night  in  the  music  that  I  love.  If  you  do  not  mind,  we 
will  perform  our  devotions  together,  and  then  you  can 
go  to  bed  and  dream  of  Claude  Slingsby  knocking  in 
vain  at  the  gates  of  Paradise  and  all  the  angels  weeping 
because  they  cannot  take  him  in." 

Without  waiting  for  my  answer  he  settled    himself  in 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  317 

his  chair,  and  after  striking  a  note  or  two  began  to  sing  in 
a  low  tone,  but  very  sweetly  and  with  great  expression  : 

"  Mother  of  God !  there  is  sorrow 
And  anguish  under  the  sun, 
And  the  tears  are  wet  on  our  faces 
Till  the  night  of  travail  is  done. 

"  Mother  of  God  !  on  thy  bosom 
I  would  lay  my  burden  of  fears, 
And  thou  who  in  life  felt  the  burden 
Wilt  dry  the  trace  of  my  tears." 

There  were  some  other  verses  which  I  do  not  remem- 
ber, but  certainly  no  man  could  have  thrown  greater 
pathos  and  meaning  into  the  words  he  sang.  His  breast 
shook  with  his  emotion,  and  for  the  second  time  I  saw  the 
tears  in  his  eyes.  Then  he  rose  hastily  and,  catching  my 
hand,  pressed  it  in  his  own. 

"  Forget  my  folly,  my  dear  friend,  and  think  of  me  as 
I  would  be,  not  as  I  am.  You  will  sleep  with  an  easy 
conscience  and  rise  to  the  joy  and  glory  of  a  new  day. 

Where  the is  Anthony  ?  Here,  you scab, 

show  Mr.  Cassilis  to  his  berth  and to  you." 

It  was  a  long  time  before  I  fell  asleep,  for  I  was  weary 
almost  beyond  the  healing  of  sleep,  and  the  figure  of  the 
little  captain  and  the  sound  of  his  voice  kept  dancing  in 
my  brain  and  linking  themselves  fantastically  to  the  chain 
of  my  own  misfortunes.  Then  somehow  there  came  a 
welcome  oblivion,  though  I  remember  to  have  heard  in- 
distinctly the  creaking  of  the  winch  and  the  measured  lilt 
of  voices  and  the  rattling  of  the  anchor  chain.  I  do  not 
know  how  long  I  slept,  but  when  I  wakened  the  sun  was 
high  up  in  the  heavens  and  the  Swallow  was  rolling  un- 


3i8  HERONFORD 

easily  in  the  measured  swell.  I  rose  hastily  and  was  pro- 
ceeding to  dress  when  the  man  Anthony  came  into  my 
cabin  with  a  basin  of  hot  coffee. 

"  The  captain's  order,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  was  to  make 
you  comfortable,  and  see  that  you  had  your  breakfast." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  him  and  you,"  I  said,  feeling  that  I 
should  make  as  many  friends  as  I  was  able.  "  I  have 
been  quite  comfortable,  and  we  seem  to  be  making  a  quiet 
passage." 

"  The  Lord  love  you,"  he  cried,  smiling  at  my  igno- 
rance, "  we  have  hardly  stirred.  There  is  not  as  much 
air  as  would  cool  your  porridge.  And  I  beg  pardon,  sir, 
do  you  know  the  captain  at  all  ?  " 

"  I  met  him  last  night  for  the  first  time." 

"  Then  I  would  advise  you  to  give  him  a  wide  berth 
this  blessed  day,  that's  all.  He's  been  raising  hell  since 
daybreak,  and  if  he's  pretty  free  with  his  tongue  more  by 
token  he's  very  handy  with  a  marlinspike.  He  don't  like 
the  weather  and  he  don't  like  the  coast  and  he  don't  like  the 
Spitfire  that's  been  trying  for  us  since  Adam  was  a  boy. 
I  think  'twas  that  brought  him  in,  and  I  know  now  he's 
sorry  he  was  tempted,  and,  Lord  !  to  hear  him  !  I  never 
seen  him  so  bad  before." 

"  Then  there  is  a  chance  of  the  Swallow  being  taken  ?  " 

The  man  looked  at  me  significantly. 

"  No  more  chance  than  of  your  flying  ashore,  sir. 
That's  not  Captain  Claude's  sort.  We'll  all  go  to  the 
bottom  first  like  a  snug  ship's  company.  But  you'd  better 
have  the  coffee  now,  and  I'll  get  you  a  rasher  for  your 
breakfast.  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  you  won't  forget  not  to 
meddle  with  Captain  Claude  while  he's  in  his  tantrums. 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  319 

I'm  sure  he'd  be  sorry  afterwards  if  anything  happened 
to  you." 

After  I  had  breakfasted,  which  I  did  quite  alone,  I 
climbed  the  companion  ladder  and  came  upon  the  deck. 
I  was  amazed  to  see  that  we  were  certainly  not  more  than 
two  miles  from  the  shore,  and  I  could  observe  every  ob- 
ject upon  the  land  with  the  utmost  distinctness.  We  were 
just  outside  the  horn  of  the  bay,  and  I  could  see  the  long 
sweep  of  cliffs  running  to  where  they  are  shut  in  by  St. 
Dunstan's  rock  to  the  southward.  The  sea  rolled  in  a 
long,  greasy  swell  j  there  was  not  a  breath  of  air,  and  the 
white  sails  only  stirred  with  the  motion  of  the  vessel. 
Though  the  sun  was  somewhat  obscured  by  the  autumnal 
mist,  it  was  already  very  warm,  and  there  was  everywhere 
the  promise  of  a  day  of  intense  calm.  It  seemed  almost 
like  an  answer  to  my  prayers,  for  I  knew  now  that  my 
one  hope  of  safety,  slender  as  it  might  be,  depended  on 
the  coming  of  the  Spitfire. 

One  man  stood  idly  by  the  tiller,  and  two  or  three  others 
lay  sprawling  forwards,  but  Captain  Claude  had  almost  the 
entire  deck  to  himself.  He  paced  up  and  down  like  a  wild 
animal  behind  the  bars  of  his  cage,  his  head  bent  forward 
and  his  hands  folded  across  his  chest.  He  was  dressed 
with  quite  as  much  care  as  he  had  been  the  evening  before, 
but  I  noticed  that  he  was  now  armed,  and  that  a  pistol-butt 
projected  from  his  pocket.  Remembering  the  steward's 
warning,  I  went  over  to  the  bulwarks  upon  the  other  side 
and  stood  there  watching  the  long  line  of  cliffs,  but  the 
captain  seemed  not  to  have  noticed  my  coming  and  to  be 
altogether  unconscious  of  my  presence.  The  only  sounds 
I  could  hear  were  the  occasional  creaking  of  the  blocks 


320  HERONFORD 

and  the  quick,  sharp  tread  of  the  captain  as  he  paced  the 
deck.  I  had  no  desire  to  go  below  again,  and  while  my 
eyes  rested  on  the  line  of  cliffs  that  shut  in  Carnforth 
Bay,  I  felt  that  the  last  link  was  not  yet  broken  that 
bound  me  to  those  I  loved. 

An  hour  or  more  passed  in  this  way  when  I  heard  the 
hurried  tread  of  the  little  captain  close  behind  me,  and 
turning  round  I  saw  him  standing  regarding  me  under  his 
brows.  I  lifted  my  hat  without  a  word,  but  he  did  not 
seem  to  notice  my  salutation.  He  was  evidently  labour- 
ing under  intense  excitement,  for  his  lips  were  twitching 
and  his  eyes  were  ablaze  with  an  inward  fire. 

"  You  are  familiar  with  the  Word  of  God,  sir  ?  "  he 
cried. 

"  I  believe  I  am,"  I  answered  quietly. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  he  said  with  a  sneer.  "  Then 
you  must  have  heard  of  Jonah  who  made  himself  snug 
in  the  stomach  of  the  whale.  I'm  tempted  to  look  out 
for  another  miracle." 

"  Why,  sir  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir  ?  Is  this  weather  natural  ?  Where's  the 

breeze  that  should  be  bowling  the  Swallow  merrily  out 

of  danger  ?  Who  keeps  me  rotting  in  this  cursed  calm, 
the  like  of  which  was  never  seen  since  the  beginning  of 
the  world  ?  You,  sir — you're  my  Jonah — my snivel- 
ling, sanctimonious,  unsophisticated  Jonah,  and  by 

I'm  tempted  to  let  you  try  your  luck  with  the  fishes.  I'm 
sorry  I  ever  saw  your  face,  your smug,  freezing,  in- 
digestible countenance.  Go  below,  or  I  fling  you  over- 
board." 

I   verily   believe   he   would  have  been  as  good  as  his 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  321 

threat,  but  I  had  no  desire  to  continue  the  altercation,  and 
I  turned  away  and  went  down  the  companion  without  a 
word.  I  sat  down  in  the  cabin  and  took  a  book  out  of 
the  case,  but  I  could  still  hear  Captain  Slingsby  pacing 
the  deck,  which  he  continued  to  do  with  brief  intermis- 
sions all  through  the  morning  and  afternoon. 

Anthony  brought  me  some  dinner,  which  I  ate  alone, 
and  I  then  continued  to  read  until  it  became  too  dark  for 
me  to  see  longer.  The  captain  made  his  mid-day  meal 
upon  the  deck,  and  so  far  as  I  could  see  there  was  no 
change  either  in  the  weather  cr  his  temper.  I  began  to 
hope  that  I  would  end  this  long  day  altogether  by  myself, 
but  after  Anthony  had  lighted  the  lamp,  and  I  was  again 
settling  myself  to  my  book,  Captain  Claude  came  in  and 
sat  down  beside  me.  I  laid  down  my  book  and  waited 
for  him  to  speak. 

"  I  am  a  brute  and  a  fool,  Mr.  Cassilis,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
ashamed  of  myself,  and  have  come  to  beg  your  pardon." 

"  It  is  granted  at  once,"  I  said ;  "  you  have  not  hurt  me." 

"  But  I  have  hurt  myself.  I  cannot  help  it ;  I  may  do 
it  again.  It  is  not  I  who  speak,  but  the  devil.  I  am 
glad  you  did  not  answer  me." 

"  It  seems  a  pity,"  I  said,  "  that  you  should  let  the 
devil  speak  for  you." 

"  A  thousand  pities,  but  it  is  so.  I  won't  trouble  you 
again,  Mr.  Cassilis.  The  devil  and  I  will  keep  clear  of 
you  for  the  future.  Use  my  cabin  as  if  it  were  your 
own,  make  yourself  comfortable,  and  don't  be  afraid  that 
I  will  break  in  upon  your  meditations." 

"  But  I  cannot  do  that,  Captain  Slingsby.  And  I  have 
quite  forgotten  your  hasty  words." 


322  HERONFORD 

"  'Tis  all  the  amends  I  can  make  you,  but  don't  think 
I  am  virtuous  enough  to  deny  myself  anything  for  your 
sake.  I  deny  myself  nothing ;  I  couldn't  rest  to-night  in 
a  bed  of  down.  I  must  be  moving,  man  ;  I  must  keep 
stirring  or  I  shall  go  mad.  Don't  you  see  that  I'm  caught 
in  the  trap  of  my  own  making — I  who  was  wary  as  a  fox 
and  slippery  as  an  eel.  The  air  is  coming  up  from  the 
southward  now,  and  do  you  know  what  that  will  bring  ? " 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  Death,  sir — death  to  you  and  me  and  every  man  jack 
aboard  this  tidy  craft,  for  the  Swallow  will  go  to  the  bottom 
with  her  sails  standing  and  my  flag  flying  at  the  main-mast 
as  if  I  were  an  admiral  of  the  blue.  And  that  is  why  I 
ask  your  pardon,  Mr.  Cassilis,  and  so  bid  you  a  very  good- 
night." He  held  out  his  hand  to  me,  which  I  could  not 
refrain  from  taking,  and  with  a  muttered  word  or  two, 
which  I  could  not  catch,  he  left  me  to  my  solitude. 

I  do  not  think  I  fear  death  more  than  other  men,  and 
I  am  sure,  in  comparison  with  the  fate  in  store  for  me,  I 
should  willingly  have  chosen  that  alternative,  but  I  own 
the  little  captain's  words  almost  stopped  the  beating  of 
my  heart.  He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  positive  assurance  ;  he 
seemed  as  certain  of  the  future  as  if  it  were  already  an 
accomplished  fact.  Under  other  circumstances  I  should 
have  looked  for  the  coming  of  the  Spitfire  with  joy  and 
hope,  but  I  was  now  assured  that  in  that  event  Captain 
Claude  would  keep  his  word  and  would  blow  up  his  vessel 
sooner  than  surrender.  He  had  already  made  up  his  mind 
that  he  could  not  escape,  and  I  now  understood  him  well 
enough  to  know  that  it  was  not  his  own  fate  that  troubled 
him,  but  the  thought  that  he  was  beaten  at  the  game  in 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  323 

which  he  felt  he  had  no  superior.  The  vanity  of  the 
man  stood  out  conspicuous  even  in  the  moment  when  he 
thought  he  was  face  to  face  with  death. 

I  turned  the  pages  of  my  book,  but  I  felt  that  I  could 
read  no  more.  I  was  like  a  man  lost  and  groping  in  the 
darkness  who  suddenly  comes  upon  a  blind  wall  and  can 
turn  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left.  There 
seemed  to  be  no  hope  for  me  anywhere,  and  yet  the  dis- 
tant perfume  of  life  and  love — alas !  no  longer  mine — 
was  inexpressibly  dear  and  sweet  to  me.  I  had  only  be- 
gun to  taste  of  the  cup  when  it  had  been  dashed  from  my 
hand.  And  yet  at  that  moment  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
face  the  future  with  courage  and  resolution,  and  if  I  was 
indeed  to  die  then  to  go  out  of  life  like  a  gentleman  and 
a  Christian  in  charity  and  at  peace  with  all  mankind. 

The  hours  that  I  spent  this  evening  alone  were  certainly 
unpleasant,  but  I  am  sure  they  were  not  unprofitable  and 
they  have  since  exerted  a  silent  influence  on  my  life  and 
character.  It  is  not  necessary  that  I  should  carry  you  into 
all  the  secret  chambers  of  my  thoughts,  but  when  I  rose  up 
I  felt  like  a  man  who  had  gained  a  new  access  of  strength 
from  some  hidden  source  and  who  feels  that  after  all  death 
is  not  the  worst  thing  that  life  has  power  to  bring  us. 

I  lay  down  in  my  berth  without  divesting  myself  of  my 
clothes  for  I  thought  there  was  no  possibility  of  my  fall- 
ing asleep.  For  a  minute  or  two  I  lay  listening  to  the 
swish  of  the  sea  against  the  Swallow's  sides,  the  straining 
of  beams  and  the  creaking  of  blocks — for  a  minute  or  two 
— and  then  quite  in  an  instant  I  fell  into  the  deepest, 
sweetest  and  most  dreamless  sleep  I  ever  enjoyed  in  my 
life.  It  was  not  late  when  I  retired  to  bed  and  I  must 


324  HERONFORD 

have  slept  for  many  hours — many  hours,  for  the  sun  had 
dawned  when  I  awakened  in  the  grey  cold  light. 

I  sat  up  with  a  sudden  start  j  for  the  moment  I  was  all 
abroad.  Where  was  I  ?  How  had  I  come  here  ?  What 
sound  was  it  that  had  awakened  me  and  still  echoed  in  my 
ears  ?  I  sat  up  and  listened.  In  an  instant  I  remembered 
everything.  The  wind  had  come  at  last  for  my  cabin 
was  now  at  an  angle  and  I  felt  the  Swallow  slipping 
through  the  seas  like  a  thing  alive.  But  the  sound — a 
crash  like  the  headlong  ruin  of  a  falling  tree  ?  and  then  it 
came  again,  but  now  I  was  awake  and  in  a  moment  I 
knew  its  meaning.  I  leaped  hastily  from  my  bed  and  sprang 
to  the  door.  The  moment  that  Captain  Slingsby  was  look- 
ing for  had  arrived  and  the  Spitfire  had  fired  her  first  sa- 
lute. Oh  !  I  knew  by  instinct  the  sound  that  tore  asunder 
the  silence  of  the  dull  grey  morning  with  its  reverberat- 
ing thunder.  And  it  was  not  distant  but  near  at  hand. 

I  dashed  through  the  empty  cabin  without  waiting  to 
think,  and  sprang  up  the  companion-way  to  the  entire 
disregard  of  my  neck  in  my  blind  haste.  When  I  got 
upon  the  deck  I  found  it  was  blowing  freshly,  a  cold, 
steady  wind  though  the  ragged  mist  still  lay  in  blurred 
masses  to  the  eastward  where  the  newly  risen  sun  glowed 
like  a  dull  red  fire.  The  Swallow  had  every  inch  of 
canvas  set  and  was  laying  down  her  shapely  bows  to  the 
leaping  waters  that  hissed  round  her.  The  entire  crew 
were  lying  under  the  bulwarks — all  but  the  captain,  who 
stood  at  the  tiller  bareheaded  with  his  long  fair  hair  tossed 
by  the  wind  and  such  a  look  in  his  eyes  as  I  shall  never 
forget ;  his  mouth  was  open  and  showed  his  white  teeth ; 
his  cheeks  were  flushed  but  now  with  no  unnatural  tints ; 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  325 

his  frail,  diminutive  figure  swayed  with  every  movement  of 
the  schooner.  Yet  even  at  the  moment  I  felt  that  his  was 
the  soul  that  inspired  the  flying  vessel  and  that  all  de- 
pended on  his  indomitable  will  and  fearless  courage. 

The  shore  was  not  now  in  sight,  but  about  four  hundred 
yards  away  on  the  weather  beam — and  I  saw  it  with  a  leap- 
ing of  my  heart — there  rose  a  ghostly  fabric  of  canvas 
looming  through  the  thin  mist.  Captain  Claude  never 
turned  his  head  toward  his  passing  foe  but  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  drawing  sails.  But  the  sight  of  the  brig  fasci- 
nated me.  Every  moment  she  seemed  to  me  to  be  draw- 
ing nearer  and  nearer,  and  every  moment  I  watched  to  see 
the  spurt  of  fire  lighting  up  the  greyness  of  the  haze. 
For  a  time  I  could  not  withdraw  my  eyes  ;  and  then  I 
saw  the  flash  of  another  gun ;  I  heard  the  hissing  of  the 
iron  messenger,  and  the  green  water  was  tossed  into 
white  foam  a  few  yards  astern.  Captain  Claude  turned 
his  head  for  the  first  time,  and  laughed  pleasantly. 

"  He  has  got  our  range  now,"  he  cried.  "  He  means 
business,  Mr.  Peacocke." 

"  I  am  afraid  he  does,  sir,"  answered  the  mate,  who 
was  crouched  near  where  the  captain  stood,  "  and  he  has 
the  legs  of  us." 

"  And  the  body  and  the  head,  but  not  the  heart,  Mr. 
Peacocke.  They  won't  say  we  did  not  die  game.  And 
now,  sir,  we  must  not  let  him  have  it  all  his  own  way.  See 
what  you  can  do  with  the  carronade.  You  can  take  your 
time ;  there  is  no  hurry  for  we  have  all  eternity  before  us." 

The  mate  made  no  response,  but  rose  to  his  height  and 
— it  is  wonderful  how  trivial  incidents  impress  the  memory 
— stopping  to  spit  contemptuously  over  the  bulwark, 
lounged  slowly  forward.  I  saw  from  where  I  stood  a 


326  HERONFORD 

little  crowd  gathered  round  the  gun  and  the  tarpaulin  cov- 
ering withdrawn,  and  then  one  ran  to  the  galley  and 
presently  returned  with  a  light  in  his  hand.  Captain  Claude 
put  down  his  helm  and  altered  the  schooner's  course. 

"  Don't  fail  to  give  them  our  compliments,  Mr.  Pea- 
cocke,"  he  shouted.  "  Now,  old  sure  and  steady." 

Almost  simultaneously  came  the  deafening  roar  of  the 
gun  and  the  shock  that  shook  the  Swallow  from  stem  to 
stern  and  for  a  moment  seemed  to  stop  her  flight. 

The  captain  had  turned  his  head  a  little  to  watch  the 
effect  of  the  shot  and  then  he  waved  his  hand  delightedly. 

"  Hulled  by  the  living  thunder  !  Try  him  again  my 
prince  of  Trojans.  Never  mind  his  blank  body  but  show 
us  the  daylight  through  those  cursed  long  spars  of  his.  Ah  ! 
good-morning,  Mr.  Cassilis.  You  will  be  in  at  the  death 
after  all.  'Tis  a  fair  hunting  morning,  and  you  are  not 
going  to  Havre  this  cruise.  Ho  !  ho  !  we  are  booked  for  a 
longer  voyage — the  dismal  Acheron  and  the  lonely  Styx. 
What  do  you  think  of  Claude  Slingsby  as  a  prophet  now  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  word  I  think  you  are  mad,"  I  said  bluntly. 

"  This  seems  to  me  a  midsummer  folly." 

At  this  moment  the  Spitfire  had  answered  the  Swal- 
low's gun,  and  a  great,  ragged  hole  had  been  torn  in  the 
mainsail  almost  above  my  head. 

The  captain  glanced  coolly  at  the  sail. 

"  This  is  growing  pleasant.  I  avow  they  are  most 
pressing  in  their  attentions.  A  little  lower,  Mr.  Cassilis, 
and  you  would  have  solved  the  great  mystery.  Mad  ! 
You  think  I  am  mad  ?  Very  well,  sir.  Upon  my  honour 
I  believe  you  are  not  very  far  wrong,  but  I  am  sorry  we 
have  not  time  to  discuss  the  subject  fully.  Now,  Mr. 
Peacocke,  we  shall  try  our  luck  again  if  you  please,  and 


CAPTAIN  CLAUDE'S  EXIT  327 

be to  them.  By  the  immortal  gods  we'll  weather 

them  yet." 

The  effect  of  the  Swallow's  last  discharge  was  plainly 
seen.  The  Spitfiris  topmast  had  been  shot  away,  and 
hung  a  ruin  of  ropes  and  canvas,  while  almost  at  the  same 
moment  we  glided  into  a  thick  belt  of  fog  that  completely 
hid  her  from  our  view.  Captain  Claude  gave  a  little  cry 
of  delight  and  again  altered  the  Swallow's  course.  The 
mist  was  so  close  about  us  that  I  could  not  even  see  the 
schooner's  bow,  and  the  wind  was  still  blowing  freshly. 

"  If  it  holds,"  cried  Captain  Claude  joyfully,  "  we'll 
sail  them  round  this  glorious  world  of  God.  Give  us  an 
hour  of  this  and  they  won't  catch  us  in  a  century.  How. 
do  you  make  Dunstan's  holy  light,  Mr.  Peacocke  ? " 

"  South  by  south-west,  captain,"  said  the  mate  bending 
over  the  compass.  "  I  wish  they  would  give  us  another 
gun." 

"  To  be  sure  you  do,  my  gentle  Peacocke,  but  Sey- 
mour's not  such  a  fool  as  to  set  our  course  for  us.  Keep 
the  men  quiet  forward,  and  listen  with  all  your  ears  for 
the  dropping  of  a  pin  on  the  starboard  side.  If  the  fog 
holds  thick  enough  I  am  going  to  teach  them  a  lesson 
they'll  never  forget  in  their  lives — if  the  fog  don't  hold, 
do  you  know  what  will  happen,  Mr.  Cassilis  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  know,"  I  said. 

"  They'll  blow  us  out  of  the  water,  and  then  hey  for  the 
mermaids  and  their  combs  of  gold  !  That's  the  truth  of 
it.  I  think  a  couple  of  cable  lengths  would  draw  us  slap 
aboard  them  now.  Ah  !  did  ye  hear  anything  ?  " 

But  I  heard  nothing.  The  fog  hung  thick  and  cold 
about  us ;  the  Swallow  like  a  leaping  greyhound,  shoul- 
dered her  way  through  the  freshening  sea,  and  Captain 


328  HERONFORD 

Claude  stood  erect  with  his  head  thrown  forward  listen- 
ing for  every  noise.  The  minutes  seemed  to  me  to  pass 
like  hours,  and  there  was  no  change.  The  only  sound 
that  I  could  hear  was  the  leaping  of  the  waves  round  the 
bow,  and  the  swish  of  the  heavy  sea.  The  men  never 
moved  or  spoke  where  they  leaned  over  the  bulwarks 
listening  and  watching.  I  felt  my  heart  beating  with  the 
excitement,  and  I  could  hardly  breathe.  Was  it  ten  min- 
utes or  ten  hours  that  had  passed  in  this  way  ?  Once  I 
thought  I  heard  the  sound  of  creaking  spars  and  of  a 
chain  rattling,  but  I  may  have  been  mistaken  for  Cap- 
tain Claude  neither  moved  nor  spoke.  Then  the  mist 
began  to  lighten,  for  I  could  see  clearly  from  one  end  of 
the  Swallow  to  the  other. 

The  next  few  minutes  are  now  in  my  memory  like  a 
dream.  The  fog  had  changed  into  wreaths  of  writhing 
mist ;  the  round,  red  sun  flashed  out  above  the  bows,  and 
suddenly  bearing  down  upon  us  loomed  the  towering 
fabric  of  a  noble  ship. 

"  Steady  my  lads  all !  "  cried  the  captain.  "  Ready 
with  the  gun,  Mr.  Peacocke  ? " 

And  then  I  heard  a  voice  hailing  us,  a  clear,  ringing 
voice  that  spoke  above  the  sudden  clamour. 

"  Surrender,  you  fool !  or  I'll  send  you  all  to  the  bottom." 

"  Surrender  be  damned  !  "  cried  the  captain.  "  Sink  us 
if  you  can,  you  infernal  son  of  a  sea-cook.  Now  Mr. " 

But  the  words  were  never  finished.  There  was  a  sudden 
crash,  a  jagged  flash  of  dazzling  flame,  and  the  reverbera- 
tion of  ten  thousand  thunders.  I  was  caught  by  the 
throat  and  whirled  into  space  like  an  eddying  straw, 
stunned  and  crushed  and  choked.  But  then  there  was  a 
great,  silent  darkness  and  I  remembered  nothing  more. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY 

WHEN  I  came  back  to  consciousness  there  was  a  grey, 
wavering  light  in  the  little  cabin  where  I  lay.  At  first  I 
thought  I  was  lying  in  my  own  bed  at  Heronford,  and  it 
was  a  long  time  before  I  could  piece  the'  fragments  of 
my  mind  together  and  think  collectedly.  Then  gradually 
and  little  by  little  the  stray  gleams  of  memory  brightened 
and  widened,  and  I  began  to  remember  what  had  hap- 
pened. I  was  still  on  board  the  Swallow,  and  the  steady, 
swinging  motion  that  I  felt  was  the  movement  of  the 
vessel. 

After  all  Captain  Claude  had  eluded  the  imminent  peril 
with  which  he  was  menaced  when  I  was  struck  down,  and 
I  was  still  his  prisoner.  His  dexterity  and  courage  had 
stood  him  in  good  stead,  and  he  had  escaped  where  escape 
had  seemed  impossible.  My  own  position  was  un- 
changed. The  hopes — faint  as  they  were — that  I  had  of 
the  Spitfire's  coming  had  ended  in  nothing — the  last 
chance  of  rescue  had  disappeared. 

I  tried  to  raise  my  arm,  but  I  found  that  I  was  unable, 
and  my  head  was  racked  with  an  intolerable  pain.  I  re- 
membered now — I  had  been  wounded  by  the  falling  of  a 
spar  when  the  mast  had  gone  by  the  board.  That  last 
scene  rose  vividly  before  my  eyes — the  great  grey  mass 

329 


330  HERONFORD 

lifting  itself  out  of  the  waters,  the  swift  leap  of  flame,  and 
the  hopeless  ruin  of  the  Swallow's  deck.  And  yet  we 
had  escaped  !  It  seemed  impossible,  and  as  I  tried  to 
fancy  how  it  happened,  the  darkness  again  overtook  me 
and  I  lost  myself  among  the  shadows. 

I  was  awakened  by  the  sound  of  voices,  and  I  opened 
my  eyes  dreamily.  The  pain  in  my  head  no  longer 
troubled  me,  and  my  intolerable  thirst  was  gone.  At 
first  the  voices  sounded  as  if  from  an  infinite  distance,  and 
I  had  no  curiosity  to  hear  the  words  or  know  who  were 
the  speakers.  I  was  drowsy  and  contented  and  had  no 
desire  to  be  disturbed.  But  gradually  the  voices  became 
more  distinct,  and  as  I  listened  a  feeling  of  interest  grew 
in  me. 

"  The  seven  sleepers  of  Ephesus  were  nothing  to  this 
young  gentleman,"  said  a  mellow  voice  with  a  clink  of 
laughter  in  it.  "  He's  been  asleep  two  days  by  the  round 
face  ov  Apollo,  and  Venus  her  sweet  self  couldn't  get  a 
word  out  ov  him.  But  the  fever's  gone,  glory  to  God, 
an'  we've  rejuced  the  inflammation  to  the  natural  condi- 
tion entirely.  It'll  be  his  head  that's  troublin'  him  now." 

"  And  the  salt  water,  doctor.  He  had  a  good  dose 
of  that." 

"  The  salt  water  never  hurt  anybody  yet  unless  by  way 
ov  the  sea-sickness,  an'  that  used  to  play  the  juice  with 
meself.  Ah  !  me  good  sir,  good  morning.  It's  meself  is 
glad  to  see  you  so  fresh  and  smiling  after  all." 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Afther  a  little  nap  of  twenty-four  hours  and  three- 
quarters,  be  the  same  more  or  less,  you  find  yourself  on 
board  his  Majesty's  brig  Spitfire,  under  the  treatment  ov 


LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY  331 

a  poor  surgeon's  mate  by  name  ov  O'Brien,  and,  please 
God,  there's  no  harm  done  in  the  world." 

The  news  wakened  me  into  a  new  life.  In  a  moment 
I  was  wide  awake,  and  a  great  rush  of  joy  filled  my  heart. 

"  The  Spitfire  !  "  I  cried. 

"  Ay,  sir,  that's  the  name  of  this  blessed  old  hulk, 
though  I'm  told  by  all  accounts  you  have  some  reason  to 
give  thanks  to  the  same,  and  it's  not  for  me  to  take  away 
her  character." 

"  You  are  telling  me  the  truth  ?  " 

"  I  was  born  in  Ireland,  me  dear  boy,  and  never  told 
a  lie  since  I  was  a  baby  but  wance,  and  that  was  an  ac- 
cident. You'll  see  for  yourself  in  a  day  or  two." 

"  And  the  Swallow  and  Captain  Slingsby — I  thought  — " 

"  A  dream,  an  ugly,  good  for  nothing  dream.  I've 
dreamt  about  them  meself.  I  dreamt  we  met  the  little 
devil  on  Tuesday  morning,  and  more  by  good  luck  than 
good  guidance  we  gave  him  a  belly  full.  Never  a  man 
wanted  it  more  and  deserved  it  better.  He's  the  only 
man  in  the  world,  and  I'm  a  good  Christian,  that  I'd  have 
seen  hanged  with  a  heart  and  a  half.  Dream  away,  sir, 
and  dream  that  the  Swallow  has  carried  her  last  cask  of 
brandy — it  was  the  beautiful  stuff  by  all  accounts — and 
that  the  little  rogue  in  the  blue  coat  will  never  stick  a 
knife  in  the  back  of  an  honest  man  again.  For  they 
went  down  together,  and  he  cheated  the  gallows  after  all. 
And  now  let  me  see  your  arm,  and  I'll  try  and  make  you 
a  little  more  comfortable." 

"  Ah !  I  see  I  have  been  hurt." 

"  You  have  the  luck  of  St.  Patrick's  great  aunt,  who 
had  a  saint  for  her  nephew.  What's  a  little  knock  on  the 


332  HERONFORD 

head,  a  broken  arm,  and  an  infinitesimal  derangement  of 
the  nervous  system  when  you  might  have  been  in  pur- 
gatory these  two  days  past.  Let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Cas- 
silis,  there  were  only  three  ov  you  saved,  and  the  other 
two  by  the  same  token  will  be  hanged  because  they  hadn't 
the  luck  to  be  drowned." 

But,  indeed,  I  felt  that  I  could  not  be  too  thankful  for 
my  good  fortune,  and  that  I  could  never  be  sufficiently 
grateful  to  that  merciful  Providence  which  had  snatched 
me  from  death  and  a  fate  still  more  awful.  Only  two 
others  and  myself — Peacocke  was  one  of  them — had  es- 
caped the  general  destruction  which  had  overtaken  every 
soul  on  board  the  Swallow^  and  I  had  been  picked  up 
clinging  to  a  floating  spar — dead  rather  than  alive.  But 
indeed,  as  I  learned,  it  was  only  by  the  merest  accident 
that  the  Spitfire  had  arrived  upon  the  scene  at  all,  and  I 
heard  with  astonishment  that  this  happy  event  was  due 
to  the  captain  having  received  the  afternoon  before  a  note 
signed  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Stone,  of  whose  existence  he 
had  never  heard,  and  whose  communication  he  at  first 
regarded  with  suspicion.  At  first,  knowing  Captain 
Slingsby's  way,  he  had  thought  it  only  another  ruse,  and 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  pay  no  further  attention  to  it, 
but  at  the  last  moment  he  had  altered  his  resolution  and 
got  a  fortunate  slant  of  wind  northward. 

Certainly  I  was  now  overpowered  with  kindness.  Cap- 
tain Seymour  and  the  surgeon  were  continually  at  my 
bedside,  and  the  latter  promised  that  in  a  few  days  I 
should  be  on  my  feet  again,  while  the  former  declared — 
by  this  time  he  had  heard  a  good  deal  of  my  story — that 
I  should  be  landed  nowhere  but  in  Carnforth  Bay.  You 


LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY  333 

can  imagine  how  eagerly  I  looked  forward  to  that  event, 
and  to  the  moment  when  I  should  rap  at  the  cottage  door 
and  take  my  sweet  love  again  in  my  arms,  for  I  felt  like 
one  newly  risen  from  the  dead ;  I  had  been  lifted  out  of 
the  blankest  despair ;  I  was  about  to  be  restored  to  love 
and  happiness.  I  pictured  over  and  over  again  the  look 
upon  my  sweetheart's  face,  and  I  heard  her  cry  of  joy  as 
she  flung  her  arms  about  my  neck  and  hid  her  face  on  my 
breast.  It  seemed  too  great  happiness  to  be  real,  and 
sometimes  I  began  to  think  that  I  was  dreaming  again. 

Upon  the  subject  of  Captain  Claude,  Seymour  and  I 
could  never  agree.  Though  he  had  intended  to  do  me  a 
great  wrong  he  had  treated  me  not  unkindly,  and  I  had 
imagined  that  he  had  once  or  twice  displayed  the  vestiges 
of  a  better  nature.  But  the  captain  of  the  Spitfire,  who 
had  known  him  for  some  years,  had  not  a  word  to  say  in 
his  favour,  and  certainly  if  all  the  stories  I  heard  were 
true,  I  had  reason  to  congratulate  myself  upon  my  treat- 
ment. It  appeared  that  he  had  been  born  of  a  good 
Devonshire  family,  and  had  originally  been  in  the  royal 
service.  He  had  been  dismissed  his  ship  and  had  dis- 
appeared— report  said  he  had  tried  his  fortune  on  the 
Spanish  main — but  at  any  rate  he  was  not  heard  of  for 
a  good  many  years.  Then  he  reappeared  in  London, 
where  he  swaggered  for  some  time  as  a  man  of  fashion, 
until  he  was  involved  in  a  serious  murder  in  a  Covent 
Garden  coffee-house,  and,  being  tried  upon  the  capital 
charge,  narrowly  escaped  with  his  life. 

It  was  after  this  he  became  the  owner  or  part-owner  of 
the  Swallow,  and  for  six  years  he  had  laughed  at  all  at- 
tempts to  capture  him.  There  was  no  free  trader  on  the 


334 


HERONFORD 


coast  so  daring  as  himself;  he  fought  with  a  rope  round 
his  neck,  and  occasionally  added  piracy  to  his  other  avo- 
cations. He  was  as  careless  of  his  own  life  as  he  was  of 
the  lives  of  his  companions,  and  seemed  as  greedy  of 
danger  as  if  he  loved  it  for  its  own  sake.  The  long  list 
of  crimes  of  which  he  was  accused — and  of  some  of  them 
he  was  probably  guilty — found  me  lost  in  wonder  that  a 
body  so  frail  and  slight  could  have  been  animated  by  so 
much  energy,  for  he  never  seemed  to  have  rested.  But 
of  that  other  side  of  his  nature,  with  its  sentiment  and 
softness,  no  one  seemed  to  have  the  least  suspicion,  and 
I  found  it  difficult  to  get  credit  for  my  narrative.  Even 
yet  I  cannot  tell  what  he  was — whether  a  good  man  gone 
wholly  wrong,  or  a  bad  man  with  a  distorted  and  glim- 
mering perception  of  better  things. 

The  surgeon  found  me  an  excellent  patient,  and  in  a 
day  or  two  I  began  to  mend  rapidly ;  indeed,  on  the  third 
day  I  had  recovered  so  far  that  I  sat  up  for  a  little  while 
and  made  no  doubt  that  I  should  get  ashore  by  the  end 
of  the  week.  I  had  written  a  letter  to  Mr.  Stone  and 
another  to  Victory,  but  from  neither  had  I  yet  had  a  re- 
ply. Both  letters  were  very  short,  and  merely  assured 
them  of  my  safety,  but  in  Mr.  Stone's  letter  I  added  the 
request,  knowing  his  energetic  nature,  that  he  would  take 
no  steps  in  regard  to  the  punishment  of  my  enemies  un- 
til I  had  first  communicated  with  him.  Upon  this  mat- 
ter I  had  not  made  up  my  mind,  though  I  am  afraid  I 
am  like  most  other  men  who  do  not  care  to  suffer  serious 
injury  without  retaliation. 

But  there  was  another  thought  working  in  my  mind.  I 
now  held  the  lives  of  Mr.  Weston  and  his  accomplice  in 


LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY  335 

the  hollow  of  my  hand,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  could 
now  make  that  important  circumstance  the  means  of  ob- 
taining possession  of  the  papers  of  which  I  had  been 
robbed.  I  felt  sure  that  when  he  was  driven  with  his  back 
to  the  wall,  Weston  would  no  more  hesitate  regarding  the 
sacrifice  of  his  confederate  than  he  had  hesitated  to  de- 
stroy myself.  How  this  desirable  end  was  to  be  accom- 
plished I  did  not  yet  see  clearly,  but  I  was  pretty  sure  that 
with  Stone's  assistance  I  should  be  able  to  attain  it.  It 
would  be  no  great  advantage  to  me  to  punish  the  offend- 
ers— I  am  afraid  in  any  case  I  would  never  have  made  a 
persecutor — and  on  the  other  hand  there  might  be  an 
enormous  gain  to  be  derived  from  present  forbearance.  I 
was  afraid  that  Mr.  Stone,  by  his  excessive  zeal,  might 
precipitate  the  catastrophe,  and  I  couched  my  request  to 
him  in  language  as  strong  as  I  could  command,  and  ob- 
scurely hinted  at  the  urgency  of  the  cause. 

I  think  there  was  reason  in  this  view,  but  you  will  see 
in  a  moment  that  it  never  became  necessary  for  me  to 
pursue  it,  and  that  that  retributive  Providence  which 
follows  the  footsteps  of  the  wrongdoer  wrought  for  me, 
and  administered  the  last  justice  in  its  own  inscrutable 
way. 

It  was  two  days  after  this  that  I  came  upon  deck  for  the 
first  time,  and  though  I  still  felt  a  little  distressed  and 
shaken,  I  was  able  to  walk  about  with  the  help  of  my  kind 
friend  the  surgeon's  arm,  and  felt  that  I  was  no  longer  an 
invalid.  Still,  it  did  not  require  very  much  to  tire  me,  and 
after  the  lapse  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  was  very  glad  to 
return  to  Captain  Seymour's  cabin,  where  I  had  sat  every 
afternoon  for  the  last  three  days.  Here,  with  the  stern 


336  HERONFORD 

windows  open,  and  the  warm  autumnal  air  blowing  sweetly 
through,  I  was  able — the  captain  having  gone  ashore  on 
some  business — to  indulge  in  quiet  meditation,  with  oc- 
casional snatches  of  refreshing  slumber.  I  must  have 
slept  longer  and  more  deeply  than  I  imagined.  I  never 
heard  the  captain's  gig  coming  alongside,  I  never  heard 
the  door  of  the  cabin  thrown  open  nor  the  familiar  ring 
upon  the  floor ;  but  I  was  first  awakened  by  the  call  of  a 
loud  and  cheerful  voice  — 

11  Come  aboard  at  last,  Jack,  my  boy." 

I  opened  my  eyes  with  a  start,  and  looking  up  saw 
Captain  Blythe  standing  beside  me  with  both  his  honest 
hands  held  out  to  me  and  a  look  of  joy  written  on  his 
face.  For  the  moment  neither  of  us  said  another  word, 
but  he  caught  hold  of  my  outstretched  hands  and  pressed 
them  in  an  eloquent  silence. 

He  drew  out  his  red  silk  handkerchief  and  rubbed  his 
forehead,  and  blew  his  nose  vehemently.  Then  he  looked 
at  me  with  misty  eyes. 

"  You  have  had  the  devil's  own  time,  my  lad,"  he  said 
at  last  with  a  sympathetic  ring  in  his  voice. 

It  was  so  like  an  echo  of  the  sweet,  old  days  that  I 
could  not  help  laughing  boisterously. 

"  I  have  had  my  adventures  ashore  and  afloat,  sir,"  I 
said  ;  "  as  many  as  would  fill  a  book.  But  I  am  as  a  man 
famished,  and  you  must  tell  me  the  news  first.  Is  all 

well  ?  How  is  Victory  and  my Lord  Heron  ford  ? 

Tell  me  everything." 

"  All  goes  cheerily,  Jack,  now  that  we  have  got  you 
safe  in  port.  Lord,  man,  what  a  fright  you  gave  us  to  be 
sure !  And  I  never  could  have  thought  that  Weston 


LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY  337 

would  have  played  the  rogue  as  he  did.  I'll  tell  you  the 

truth,  Jack,  I  will,  by .  I  thought  at  first  you  had 

slipped  your  cable  and  taken  French  leave  of  us  in  the 
dark.  I  have  been  thinking  since  I  could  never  look  you 
in  the  face  again." 

"  Never  fear,  sir,"  I  said,  "  we  will  soon  forget  that. 
But  Victory ?  " 

"There  is  no  wonder  in  the  world  like  a  woman,"  said 
the  captain  profoundly.  "  The  little  baggage  is  a  witch, 
and  knew  everything  as  if  she  had  read  it  in  a  newspaper. 
I  can't  tell  how  she  found  it  out,  but  there  it  was — as 
plain  sailing  as  if  it  had  been  laid  down  on  a  chart.  When 
the  news  first  came  she  was  under  sail  in  two  minutes, 
and  where  do  you  think  I  found  myself?  " 

"  I  think  I  can  guess,  sir.  I  remember  we  spoke  of 
Mr.  Stone." 

"  Not  by  a  long  way.  Under  the  guns  of  Madam 
Cassilis,  and  let  me  tell  you  the  storming  of  Carthagena 
was  nothing  to  that.  It  was  after  that  we  saw  Stone, 
and  I  have  had  enough  of  Stone  to  satisfy  me  for  the  rest 
of  my  life." 

"  But  he  is  a  very  honest  man,"  said  I. 

"  There  is  very  little  honesty  goes  to  the  making  of  a 
lawyer,  but  I  admit  that  his  port  is  the  very  best  I  ever 
tasted  in  my  life,  and  I  could  almost,  God  forgive  me, 
forget  his  calling  for  its  sake.  I  have  eaten  and  drunk 
Stone  for  a  week,  but  he's  your  good  friend,  Jack,  and 
I  wish  him  no  ill." 

"  I  am  sure  you  do  not,"  I  said  smiling. 

"No, no, don't  mistake  me.  I  admit  he  ruffled  me  ;  he 
trod  on  my  toes,  and  kept  driving  me  out  of  my  course, 


338  HERONFORD 

but  I  don't  cherish  any  feeling  about  him — not  a  grain. 
I  don't  like  a  man  who  cries  c  pooh,  pooh,'  at  every  turn, 
but  I  can  forgive  him  if  his  heart's  sound.  And  the  little 
girl  and  he  seemed  to  understand  each  other.  At  any 
rate,  they  ran  you  straight  home  to  Langston." 

"  By  that  time  I  had  gone,"  I  said. 

The  captain  nodded. 

"  It's  a  very  strange  story,"  he  said,  "  and  the  strangest 
part  to  my  mind  is  in  the  end  of  it.  I  did  you  a  terrible 
wrong,  my  lad,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  ever  forgive 
myself  for  it.  You  see  I  had  begun  to  doubt  you — well 
hardly  that  but  as  bad — and  Weston's  tales  had  set  me 
thinking,  and  I  am  sure  that  William  Cassilis  was  dead. 
I  thought  you  knew  something  about  it,  and  I  didn't  like 
it — it  was  a  bad  business,  and  I  didn't  see  my  way  clear. 
Well,  well,  when  you  disappeared  I  own  I  thought  for  a 
while  there  might  be  something  in  it,  Jack.  I  wouldn't 
speak  evil  of  the  dead  if  I  could  help  it,  but  when  I  think 
of  it  that  man's  villainy  takes  away  my  breath." 

"  The  dead  !  "  I  cried.  "  But  you  know  that  William 
Cassilis  is  as  much  alive  as  you  or  I." 

Captain  Blythe  looked  at  me  in  momentary  wonder, 
and  then  he  went  on. 

"  I  was  forgetting  that  you  had  no  news.  It  is  a  strange 
story,  Jack.  You  are  sure  you  can  bear  to  hear  it  ?  " 

"  I  can  bear  anything,"  I  cried,  "  but  this  suspense. 
What  have  you  to  tell  me  ?  " 

"  We  were  too  late,"  said  the  captain  solemnly,  "  to  be 
of  any  use  to  you,  but  we  were  in  time  enough  to  see  the 
corpse  of  William  Cassilis  sent  home  to  Heronford." 

"  What !  "  I  cried  rising  slowly  to  my  feet. 


LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY  339 

"  That  was  Mr.  Stone's  doing,  and  I  suppose  he  did  it 
wisely.  We  had  got  a  search  warrant  or  some  document 
of  that  kind,  for  Victory  had  found  a  man  out  of  West- 
on's  stables  who  was  ready  to  depose  on  oath  that  you 
were  in  the  house.  Well,  we  lost  no  time,  but  you  were 
gone,  and  a  just  God  had  dealt  out  his  punishment  before 
we  got  there.  You  never  knew  that  Weston  had  a 
younger  brother — a  poor,  half-witted  creature  whom  he 
kept  closed  up  and  treated,  I'm  told,  well  enough.  It 
seems  while  William  Cassilis  was  in  Langston  he  never 
would  let  the  poor  idiot  alone,  but  tormented  and  worried 
him  as  he  did  every  living  creature  that  came  in  his  way. 
Once  or  twice  Archie — that  was  his  name — had  turned 
on  him  and  Weston  was  afraid  there  might  be  mischief 
between  them,  for  he  had  left  orders  that  he  was  to  be 
looked  after.  I  suppose  they  had  set  a  bad  watch  or  none. 
At  any  rate  they  found  the  part  of  the  house  where  Cas- 
silis was  lodged  all  in  a  blaze  and  the  idiot  and  him  there 
together.  They  couldn't  reach  them,  and  I'm  told  it  was 
an  awful  sight.  They  fought  together  with  the  flames 
roaring  behind  them,  they  fought  on  the  window,  and 
they  fought  on  the  stone  coping  ;  but  the  idiot  never  let 
go  his  hold,  and  they  came  crashing  to  the  ground  to- 
gether." 

"  Both  dead  ? "  I  asked  breathless,  thinking  of  poor 
Archie's  fears  and  threats. 

"  The  poor  innocent  was  breathing,  but  William  Cas- 
silis never  moved  or  spoke  again — his  neck  was  broken 
and  he  was  dead.  Stone  thought,  for  your  sake  and  his 
brother's,  the  world  should  know  all  about  it,  and  he  was 
buried  yesterday  morning  in  Heronford  churchyard." 


340  HERONFORD 

"  And  my  lord — does  he  know  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  He  knows  nothing,  I'm  told.  They  say  he  may  live 
for  twelve  months,  but  his  mind  is  gone  and  he's  a  mere 
child.  He  was  a  fine  man,  was  Lord  Heronford  :  I  never 
saw  a  handsomer,  but  I  suppose  it  was  this  trouble  has 
told  upon  him.  All  the  world  knows  now  that  we  did 
him  a  terrible  wrong." 

I  had  never  seen  my  good  captain  so  eloquent  or  so  ex- 
cited, and  he  had  not  yet  half  finished  his  narrative ;  but 
the  tidings  I  had  already  heard  was  too  much  for  me  and 
I  believe  I  fainted.  At  any  rate  the  surgeon  who  was 
hastily  summoned  induced  my  visitor  to  retire,  and  I  was 
left  alone  with  my  news.  You  can  easily  understand  that 
it  was  a  long  time  before  I  could  fully  realise  it.  It  had 
come  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  ;  it  was  so  horrible  in 
its  details,  that  my  mind  at  first  could  hardly  grasp  it.  The 
actual  fact  of  that  terrible  death-struggle  filled  me  with 
horror.  It  almost  softened  my  feelings  toward  the  wretched 
man  who  had  pursued  me  with  malignant  hatred,  and  had 
inflicted  upon  me  a  wrong  so  grevious.  I  could  easily 
imagine  what  had  happened.  I  remembered  with  what 
hatred  Archie  had  watched  his  tormentor,  and  had  waited 
for  an  opportunity  of  retaliation.  The  animal  ferocity 
of  the  imbecile  had  been  awakened,  and  he  had  planned 
his  revenge  with  instinctive  cunning  and  certainty.  I 
pictured  again  and  again  that  awful  scene,  and  I  could  not 
help  feeling  that  William  Cassilis  had  brought  about  his 
own  punishment  and  prepared  his  own  end.  And  when 
the  first  sharp  edge  of  horror  had  become  dulled,  I  thought 
of  my  dear  love  who  had  never  lost  faith  in  me,  who 
had  never  wavered  or  doubted,  and  who  with  all  a 


LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY  341 

woman's  splendid  heart  and  courage  had  laboured  toward 
my  safety.  My  dear  blind  old  captain  might  doubt,  but 
Victory  had  shown  herself  a  true  woman  to  the  end. 
Heaven  bless  those  dear  eyes  that  saw  so  clearly. 
Heaven  shield  that  tender  heart  that  beat  so  faithfully. 

It  was  nearly  a  week  after  this  that  the  chaise  I  had 
taken  at  Colehaven  deposited  me  at  Heronford.  I  must 
admit  that  I  was  touched  by  my  welcome  for  I  had  never 
dreamed  that  I  had  come  so  near  the  hearts  of  my  peo- 
ple. They  showed  their  delight  in  a  hundred  ways,  and 
had  I  not  prevented  it  would  have  taken  the  horses  from 
the  carriage  and  drawn  me  in  triumph  to  the  door.  I 
found  then  that  many  trivial  nameless  acts  that  I  had 
done  were  remembered,  and  if  old  Transome  blubbered 
upon  my  shoulder  and  spoilt  my  coat,  I  am  sure  I  for- 
gave him  with  all  my  heart  and  almost  hugged  him  in 
return.  I  felt  that  I  was  indeed  again  among  my  friends, 
and  their  kindly  feelings  found  a  responsive  echo  in  my 
own  breast  and  filled  my  own  heart.  But  this  was  not 
the  only  surprise  in  store  for  me  ;  there  was  another  still 
greater  and  more  startling.  Madam  Cassilis  was  standing 
on  the  steps  to  receive  me  clad  in  deep  mourning.  I 
noticed  that  her  face  was  drawn  and  aged,  and  perhaps 
she  had  lost  a  little,  but  not  much,  of  her  stateliness. 
But  I  thought  notwithstanding  her  outward  coldness  of 
manner  that  her  eyes  were  not  unfriendly,  and  certainly 
she  had  never  before  addressed  me  in  the  same  tone  and 
language. 

"  You  are  welcome  home,  Mr.  Cassilis." 
She  held  out  her  hand  to  me,  and  permitted  it  to  remain 
in  mine  perhaps  a  moment  or  more  longer  than  was  neces- 


342  HERONFORD 

sary.  Then  our  eyes  met  and  at  the  altered  look  in  them 
I  started  with  a  sudden  thought.  Had  she  learned  ?  Had 
my  lord  told  her  ?  But  in  an  instant  I  knew  that  was 
impossible.  Then  she  turned  in  her  old  hard  manner. 

"  I  know  you  are  ill  and  tired,  I  will  not  detain  you, 
but  I  have  a  duty  to  discharge,  and  shall  not  keep  you 
long.  Can  you  spare  me  a  moment  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  I  said.  "  I  have  ceased  to  feel  tired 
since  I  entered  the  gates." 

"  Yes,  they  are  glad  to  see  you,"  she  said  with  a  con- 
temptuous shrug. 

I  remembered  the  last  time  I  had  stood  in  madam's 
boudoir,  and  the  hard  and,  as  I  then  thought,  unfeeling 
manner  in  which  she  had  treated  me.  But  now  a  won- 
derful change  had  taken  place  in  her. 

I  am  sure  she  was  not  sorry  to  see  me;  there  was  not 
the  faintest  trace  of  condescension  in  her  manner ;  she 
regarded  me  as  an  equal,  and,  I  thought,  seemed  almost 
afraid  of  me.  She  turned  round  and  faced  me  with  her 
hands  resting  upon  the  table  behind  her. 

"  You  have  always  thought  me  a  hard  woman,"  she 
said,  slowly. 

I  was  silent. 

"  Yes,  a  hard  woman,  and  perhaps  an  unjust  one." 

u  I  do  not  know,"  I  said.  "  I  speak  honestly  ;  I  have 
always  thought  you  acted  from  a  sense  of  duty." 

"  Yet  one  may  do  that  and  act  wrongly." 

"It  has  happened  before,"  I  said. 

"  It  has  happened  now,"  she  answered  quickly. 
"John  Cassilis,  I  never  thought  I  should  live  to  beg 
your  pardon.  Yet  it  has  come  to  that,  and  I  have  the 


LIGHT  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  JOURNEY  343 

pride  left  to  humble  myself  before  you.  I  beg  your 
pardon  with  all  my  heart." 

"  For  what  reason  ?  "  I  said,  almost  doubting  my  ears. 

"  Because,"  she  cried,  and  I  can  hear  her  speak  the 
words  yet,  "  it  is  the  duty  of  the  women  of  Heronford 
to  honour  the  head  of  the  house.  Wait,"  she  went  on, 
"  you  will  know  in  a  moment.  My  brother  William 
was  not  a  good  man,  and  I  am  sure  he  intended  to  do 
you  a  great  wrong.  But  in  death  he  made  amends  for 
the  injury  he  would  have  done,  and  this  was  found  upon 
him  when  he  was  brought  here.  You  are  the  proper 
guardian  of  these  papers  and  the  secret  they  contain." 

She  placed  the  little  packet  in  my  hands  and  I  knew 
it  in  an  instant.  It  seemed  never  to  have  been  opened, 
but  was  tied  with  the  same  string  as  I  had  last  seen  it. 
She  watched  me  as  I  held  it  before  me. 

"  Open  it,"  she  cried  impatiently.  "  Open  it  and  read." 

"  I  need  not  do  that,"  I  said.  "  I  have  seen  it  before ; 
I  know  the  contents." 

"  Then  you  knew " 

"  Yes,  madam,  I  knew  everything." 

"  And  you  never  spoke." 

"  The  secret  was  not  mine  alone." 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  and  I  knew  how  much  it  cost 
her  to  speak  the  words,  "  there  are  good  days  in  store  for 
Heronford.  Will  you  let  me  take  you  to  your  father's 
room  ?  " 

Many  years  lie  between  that  time  and  this — many 
happy  years  that  love  has  filled  with  music  and  hallowed 
with  the  richest  blessings.  I  have  seen  my  sons  grow 
up  round  me  and  heard  the  prattle  of  my  grandchildren 


344 


HERONFORD 


filling  this  old  house  with  joyous  echoes.  And  the  old 
lady  who  sits  yonder  with  little  Ally's  golden  head  upon 
her  knee — her  head  is  as  white  as  my  own,  and  she 
moves  out  into  the  sunshine  when  it  is  warm  against  the 
southern  wall,  but  I  can  still  see  in  her  eyes  the  spring- 
time and  sweetness  of  a  love  that  time  has  never  weak- 
ened, and  death  will  only  make  the  stronger.  Ah !  My 
Lady  Heronford,  I  can  still  hear  the  laughter  of  the  old 
Victory,  and  see  the  gay  and  cheerful  courage  that  shone 
in  the  eyes  of  my  brave  old  captain's  daughter.  Him 
we  buried  full  of  age  and  honours,  but  I  think  his  fight- 
ing spirit  is  not  dead,  for  there  is  another  Ely  the  of  his 
blood  and  mine  who  has  heard  the  thunders  of  Trafalgar, 
and  saw  the  great  captain  fall  in  his  hour  of  victory.  I 
have  another  neighbour  now  in  Langston  Priory.  Mr. 
Weston  has  long  since  gone  to  his  own  place,  and  his 
deeds  have  followed  him.  For  myself  I  let  him  go  his 
own  way,  and  if  I  did  not  forget,  at  least  I  forgave  him 
the  wrongs  he  did  me ;  and  he  met  his  final  punishment, 
as  often  happens  in  this  world,  not  at  my  hands,  but  his 
own. 


THE  END. 


A.J.HERZ&BRO. 

Booksellers,  .Newsdealer 

and  Slutli.ners. 
Mail  Order*  Solicited. 

Waco,      Tex. 


A     000110668     1 


